Heed Not These Distinctions
by mini bagel
Summary: Two of their teammates have been captured, can the rest of the team find them before the impossible happens?
1. Chapter 1

Hello all! Hope you like this new story, it will have some minor (very, very, very minor) torture, later in. But the rating probably won't rise above K+. Reviews, as always, are welcome and encouraged. Thanks.

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"I didn't expect to see myself in this kind of situation so soon. I figured I'd at least get a year before I'd get captured again."

"I guess you're in high demand."

"Looks like you are too, McGee."

"You flatter me."

"Sarcasm doesn't compliment you. Cheer up, at least we're not dead."

"There is that." Tim turned to look at Tony the best he could. "You know what?" Tony turned to try and meet Tim's eyes but didn't achieve much more than Tim had.

"What?"

"I can't believe I'm the one saying this but, this reminds me of a movie." Tim could almost see the smile curling upon Tony's face.

"Let me guess. Indiana Jones? The Last Crusade?"

"Yeah. But can you guess which part?" Tony laughed dryly at the question.

"Are you serious? Probesters, give me a hard question. Harrison Ford and Sean Connery tied to chairs, back to back in Nazi territory. Great scene. Well, Sean Connery's in it. Of course Harrison Ford doesn't exactly hurt that either."

"Can't forget the German woman."

"Oh, yeah. She was amazingly hot. This makes me Sean Connery-"

"Which makes me Harrison Ford."

"Awesome."

"How's your head?"

"That's a bit off topic McGoo." Tony tried his best to deflect. Tim tilted his head toward Tony, and Tony caught a glimpse of a concerned expression painted on Tim's face. "It hurts a bit, but that's what happens when someone hits you with a frying pan." Tim grimaced with sympathy and then pain as his own head throbbed. "You?"

"The same." Small black spots danced in his vision as Tony and he accidentally bumped heads; he closed his eyes to quell the slight nausea that rose inside of him. Tony probably wasn't faring much better, because he quieted for a few minutes. Both men composed themselves the best they could before talking again, unwilling to let the other see any weakness. Tim finally spoke up,

"This doesn't look good."

"Nope."

"What do you mean 'nope'?"

"It means I agree with you McHard-of-hearing."

"You never agree with me." Tim could see a half smile ghost onto Tony's face. "You don't agree with me. You're just playing with me."

"Ah, McGullible. I couldn't miss that golden moment- McGee, listen." Both men froze, their heads facing toward the sound. Tim swallowed as soft footsteps echoed toward the door. They could hear a slight ringing sound as something metal was tapped on the concrete floor outside. Both men turned to each other, trying to look each other in the eyes. The rope put a hamper on that though.

Tim managed to stifle a yelp as something brushed his hands, which were tied behind his back. A finger poked his palm, Tony; he realized and flushed slightly in embarrassment. "A voice whispered to him, "Good luck, Tim."

"You too, Tony." He whispered back. They both stiffened as a key was inserted into the lock and the handle turned. Out of the corner of his eye, Tim saw Tony slip his mask on. Tim turned grimly to the door and mirrored Tony, slipping on his own blank mask. He had never been tortured before, and everything about this situation screamed imminent torture. Last time he had been lying on the ground, away from this sort of thing. And now he sat in the line of fire.

The door swung open.


	2. Chapter 2

Thank you everyone, for the reviews. Many hugs to you all. And to respond to a question, I don't think there will be any ships in this fic. Just a friendship, angst, whump fic.

And because I forgot this in the first chapter,

**Disclaimer: I do not own NCIS or any of the characters, I don't own Tim, Tony, Jimmy or any of them (Sadly enough) *sigh*. I'm only venturing into DPB's sandbox.**

**Enjoy, and reviews are greatly appreciated all.**

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_Ten Hours Earlier_

Leaves fall from the sky like rain. But softer, gentler. The wind whispers to the trees, caressing their arms and then slowly, seductively, slipping the leaves off the branches like a loose coat. The leaves tumble downward, spiraling as the wind changes direction, joining leaves from sister trees in the air. And they all fall. A multi colored downpour, full of bright reds, soft oranges, and yellows of every shade.

The leaves descend upon the earthbound, yellowing grass. And carpet it thickly and unevenly. It's quiet in the woods, so quiet. A somberness, combined with a lighthearted feeling hangs in the air, as only the woods can produce. A well-worn dirt path winds through the woods, weaving around the trees. It's only just visible through the thick layer of fallen leaves.

A young woman runs down the path, she sways her head smoothly to the beat of the music from her iPod, ear buds placed delicately in her ears. Her steps are even, practiced, and she doesn't even look to find the path, she's so used to running this route. Leaves are kicked up with every one of her steps and swirl around her ankles a second before she takes a new step. A slight smile slips onto her lips and she turns up her music a bit, she gazes around in wonder at the glass window of leaves, the sunlight filtering in and casting an almost dreamlike quality in the wood.

She doesn't see the thick branch, shrouded by the leaves, that lies over the path. Her feet don't clear the branch, but catch upon it. With a surprised look flashing upon her face, she tumbles head over heels down a hill and lands soundly in a large pile of leaves. And something else. Something that broke her fall.

She sits up and rubs her head, trying to see straight. The world still spinning end over end. She puts out a hand to help herself up and touches something clammy, wet and squishy. She withdraws her hand and looks to it. Red. She looks down to her front, where she collided with the leaf pile. Red. She looks toward the object, uncovered by her rough landing.

Blank, unseeing eyes stare back at her. A drop of blood drips onto the pale, statue-esque face, and a glob of coagulated blood dribbles out of the stomach and onto the Naval uniform. The heart of the body no longer pumps but lies still in the body's chest. The still figure's rib cage no longer rises, he's still. Her own heart hammers in her chest and her breath catches in her throat. She's frozen in shock. But then she thaws.

A shrill, terrified scream echoes throughout the wood, tearing the peaceful silence into a million tiny pieces.

***********

"What's with Rock Creek Park?"

"What?" Tim looked up at Tony's question with a confused expression on his face. He gestured to the body, "Focus Tony. We have a job to do." He knelt back down and took another photograph. Tony made a face at his turned head, but went back to sketching the scene.

"Seriously though. What draws psychos to this place? It's not like the sign has 'free body dumping here' written on it." Tony peered toward the body and shifted slightly to the right, to get a better view. Tim sighed and turned around.

"You're exaggerating. We don't find that many bodies here."

"Remember your crazy stalker fan?" At this statement Tim's face became unreadable and he turned back to the corpse. "-And that congressman who dumped his lover's body here? And all the cases that aren't in our jurisdiction. And just last week!" Tony began sketching again, backing up slowly as he continued speaking. "Rock Creek Park is a hotspot for weirdoes, they should charge people for bringing a body to stash. It's a goldmi-Aah!!" Tony yelped and lept back as a person snuck up behind him and slid a hand onto his shoulder. Tim stood quickly, his hand immediately sliding to grip his firearm. Ready to draw. He relaxed as he saw Ziva, and went back to taking pictures. Tony however stood in the same position he had sprung into, one hand on his gun and the other held protectively in front of him.

"For the love of-didn't you learn any manners in Israel, Ziva?" Ziva smiled slyly at his reaction, a pleased look on her face.

"You should not be the one speaking about a lack of manners, Tony." She gave him another smug grin, congratulating herself for keeping her skills sharp. But her smile faded a bit at having to relay her results. "I was not able to discern the killer's footsteps from any of the others on this trail. It is actually quite a popular route for runners, I have actually been planning to try it sometime." She looked around admiringly. "And about your question-"

"What?"

"About the park, yes?"

"Alright, ninja. Hit me." Tony looked to Ziva and Ziva gave him a baffled expression.

"I thought you wanted an answer, why would you want me to hit you?" Ziva's brow furrowed in confusion, her dark eyes thoughtful. Tim turned toward her from where he was still crouching.

"It means, to tell him, Ziva." Her smiled at her.

"Then why didn't he just say that?" Ziva still looked confused. Tony groaned.

"Just tell me Ziva."

Ziva gestured around her, "Look about, Tony. What do you see?" Tony grinned at her.

"I get it, gonna be all mysterious and speak in riddles. Alright." Tony took a quick glance around him. "Trees."

"Cover. You're just running in the woods, one person can keep watch, dressed as a runner. And keep the beach clear-"

"Coast."

"Yes, that. Keep the coast clear so the other person can bring in the body. There are many of hiding places, and it is farther into the park, so there will be less of a chance of being caught, or spotted." Ziva finished and then took out a few evidence bags and some yellow, numbered markers. She started away from Tony and toward Tim, scanning the ground.

"Personal experience, Agent David?" Tony called out to her, a wide grin on his face. Ziva half turned back and gave him a mysterious look, before resuming her search. Tony chuckled, and Tim smiled as he stood and stretched his legs.

"Wonder where Ducky is?"

"He and the Autopsy Gremlin probably got lost on the way here. They're probably arguing about the direction right now." Tony commented, Tim laughed softly at the airy response. A branch cracked behind them and they both whipped around, hands laid upon their SIGs.

"Ducky." Tim sighed with relief, Tony turned slightly to Tim.

"I hate the woods, so much." He gave the trees a look of disgust before turning to Ducky and Jimmy. "Body's over here, Ducky." He nodded toward the prone figure upon the ground. Ducky and Jimmy made their way over to the body and surveyed it.

"The poor lad." Ducky commented sadly, shaking his head. "Dumped unceremoniously into the woods, like garbage. Don't worry, we'll get you home soon enough." He said soothingly. "Mr. Palmer."

"Yes, Doctor?"

"What do you observe?" Ducky looked to Jimmy expectantly. Jimmy raised his eyebrows in surprise, but took a step foreword and kneeled next to the body.

"Looks like a stab wound, into the...I'd hazard a guess, the abdomen?" Jimmy looked to Ducky, and Ducky nodded encouragingly. "It also looks like he suffered a whack to the head too. Though I don't know if it killed him, we'll know more once we get him back." Jimmy again looked to Ducky, who smiled.

"And about the position of the body?" Ducky prodded gently. Jimmy examined the figure, a serious expression on his face, his tongue poking out slightly in concentration.

"He wasn't stabbed here."

"Good. Why?"

"Well the body's sort of contorted, it's not a natural way to fall. Even if you were stabbed and clubbed over the head. And there should be more blood if he was stabbed here. It's soaked into his clothes, but there isn't any on the ground. It also looks like he's in the later stages of rigor mortis." He added, poking the man in the arm.

"Well done, Mr. Palmer! You'll be a fine Medical Examiner one day soon. Now, the liver probe. Jethro will be here soon and he'll ask-"

"Hey Duck. Palmer didn't get you lost?" The team and Palmer jumped as Gibbs seemingly appeared behind them, an ever-present cup of coffee in his hand.

"Hmm. I was not expecting that question, I was thinking more along the lines of, 'What's the ToD, Duck?'" Ducky inserted the liver probe into the body. He knew there was a rare smile sitting upon his friend's face, which would soon disappear. A rare eclipse, which the team would miss. Ducky smiled as he figured the time of death. "Looks like the lad was killed, about twenty seven hours ago."

"And the cause?"

"At the moment, I'd hypothesize that the stab wound was the fatal blow. But I'll know for sure once he's home." Ducky stood, just as Jimmy returned with the gurney. Ziva stepped foreword slipped on a pair of rubber gloves and searched his pockets. She frowned.

"No identification, Gibbs." Ziva turned to Gibbs and gave a shrug, Gibbs turned to Ducky and nodded, and then headed toward the vans, Tim, Tony and Ziva tailing close behind. Tony looked toward the young woman, the runner who had found the body and was now walking out of the woods.

"Does she know anything, Boss."

"Nope."

"Oh, a random body of a sailor, creepy woods-" At this statement, Tim looked to Ziva and made a face, she giggled and a grin slid onto her face. Tony frowned at them and continued, "-a witness who knows nothing, and now he has no ID. Sounds like a Stephen King novel. Maybe we should stay in pairs, watch your back, McGee. You're wearing the red shirt." Tim looked to his shirt.

"Tony that's Star Trek, what about you? You're the one everyone wants to frame for murder."

"Hey! That was only twice!" Tony complained. Gibbs rolled his eyes sensing an argument beginning to form.

Smack! Smack!

Gibbs smiled as the two men stopped bickering, but even that satisfaction couldn't quell the uneasiness he felt stirring in him.


	3. Chapter 3

Sorry about the long delay, guys. I've been writing, believe me (The story so far has about eight chapters, but I've posted it on another site.) I'll post this chapter and the next, but I'm going to wait until the story is finished to post the rest, so all of you can get the whole story.

The criticism is dually noted, but I'd prefer a PM, please. And thank you all for the reviews and criticism.

Disclaimer: Not mine, I swear.

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"So, what do we got?" Gibbs strolled into the bullpen a new cup of coffee in his grip, or perhaps the same one as before. Tim and Tony both stood to speak and then glanced at each other, flashes of competition crossed their faces. They both took a step foreword.

"Ran his prints through APHIS, he's Petty officer Ben Stephenson, twenty five years old, boss. Joined the Navy three years ago and has advanced quickly. His family-" Tim said quickly before Tony cut in.

"-consists of his mother, deceased and his father who is living it up in Florida." Tony shot Tim a smug grin, Tim grinned back at him. Accepting the challenge of impressing the Boss. "His sister-"

"-lives in Oregon, she's happily married and hasn't seen him in two years. Apparently he stopped talking to them after he enlisted, didn't even write them a letter. He was on the USS Lincoln, which recently docked-"

"-about three days ago. Which means he was killed about a day after leaving the boat-"

"Ship."

"Yeah, that."

"He has an aunt and an uncle, but I couldn't find anything on their location."

"Anyway, he hasn't seen them in years. His record is spotless, no DUI's or anything-"

"-not even a parking ticket, Boss. He was as clean as they get. Wrote to his father twice a month, and it looks like he visited his mother's grave every time he was in Virginia." Tim shifted awkwardly at this statement, he felt a bit intrusive at finding and sharing something so private about a man he never knew. Gibbs lifted an eyebrow, when Tim stopped talking. He looked to Tony, who shrugged and let his hands swing freely at his sides, the papers he held rustling slightly.

"That's it?" Gibbs looked to both of them impassively. Tony and Tim swallowed and looked to each other. Gibbs' mouth quirked a bit, almost as if holding back a smile. He turned to the women who had sat through the report, silently. A grin planted firmly on her lips. She stood as his gaze fell on her. "Ziva." She eyed the men, two quiet, and one smug. She began to speak.

"The Petty Officer confided in his close friend, Petty Officer Gallows that he would be staying with his aunt and uncle,-" She smiled deviously. "-near Norfolk. Apparently he refused to go get-" She paused at a word, unsure. "-wasted, with the Petty Officer. Though he did give him an address if he wanted to come visit, or needed a place to stay." Ziva held up a tan note in triumph, an address scribbled on it. Gibbs smiled slightly.

"Good work," Gibbs saw, out of the corner of his eye, both Tim and Tony raise their eyebrows. "Ziva." Ziva stood a little straighter and beamed, before heading back to her desk. Gibbs walked over and plucked to note out of Ziva's hand and slid it into Tony's. "Dinozzo."

"Yeah, Boss?"

"You and McGee, go interview the relatives." Gibbs could see a protest rising upon his lips, but then fell back as he caught sight of the look Gibbs was giving him.

"Yes, Boss." He checked his watch, wonderful. The afternoon was an amazingly busy time, especially during the summer. Damn tourists. Tony sighed, gridlock with McGee. It was going to be a fun day. "C'mon, Probie. Better try and beat traffic." He saw Tim wince, he knew about the traffic too. Tim and Tony shuffled grudgingly into the elevator. And made faces as Ziva waved cheerily to them before the door slid closed.

Gibbs frowned, the feeling still hadn't gone. Something was wrong. He shook his head. A dead PO, a long drive, all just business as usual. Just business as usual, he told himself, ignoring the nagging feeling in his gut. He felt a split second urge to race down the stairs and catch them before they left. To gruffly order them to be careful and to keep their guard up. Gibbs chuckled under his breath; Ziva gave him a confused expression before returning to her work. That just wasn't him. He sat down at his desk and stared thoughtfully at the blank computer screen. They'd be fine, they were both good agents, he smiled in pride. Why else would he have hired them?


	4. Chapter 4

Sorry for the hasty apologies in this chapter, but since I'm such a softy, I'd like Tim and Tony to be on good terms for their ordeal. Reviews are always appreciated, thanks.

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The two men sat tensely in the car as it pulled up to the curb, both their jaws clenched and twin expressions of frustration and irritation on their faces. They were in the middle of an argument; the driver gripped the steering wheel tightly, occasionally gesturing to emphasize a point. He put the car in park and stepped out, the other man followed.

"-You have a problem with my driving, McGee?" Tony questioned thinly, slamming the car door with unintentional venom.

"No, of course not." Tim replied, his voice laced with sarcasm. Tony's jaw clenched harder.

"At least you weren't driving, or it would have taken another," He stopped to look at his watch. "three and a half hours."

"My driving? At least I don't break the laws we're obligated to uphold!"

"We're federal agents, McGee! Not traffic cops! Driving ten miles per hour over is better than twenty under! Unlike some people." Tony fumed, Tim glared back at him. They traded murderous looks before breaking their gaze. Tim sighed, some of the anger leaving his face. Tony's face also abandoned its look of frustration, and weariness took its place.

"I...I'm sorry, Tony."

"No, I am. It's the drive, I just got a little ticked off."

"I don't know, something feels," Tim paused, grasping for a word that would describe the feeling.

"Off?" Tony supplied helpfully. Tim nodded. "Yeah, something feels, hinky." Tim smiled slightly at the word. "Here, I'll call Gibbs."

"Right, I'll go see if anyone's home." He peered around, cautiously. "I don't see a car."

"That's what a garage is for." Tony grinned at him, the phone held up to his ear. Tim shot him an irritated expression, but it only lasted a few seconds before a wary face replaced it. Tim walked casually up the front walkway, and knocked on the worn door. Tony, finishing his call joined him, straightening his tie. The door slowly opened revealing a young woman, in her early thirties. Tony and Tim exchanged glances; this surely wasn't the aunt, a woman in her late sixties. The woman glanced curiously at them.

"Hi." She eyed them with some hesitation.

"Hi, we're Federal Agents McGee and Dinozzo." Tim flashed his badge. "Are Mr. and Ms. Brent here?"

"I'm sorry, they left a few hours ago. I'm just here to sit their cat." She then gestured down the road, somewhere beyond the woods. "I'm just their neighbor."

"May we ask you some questions?"

"Sure. Come in, I'm sure they won't mind." She opened the door wider, shepherding them in. She sat them on a plush couch and took a seat in an easy chair. "I'm Claire, by the way." She said flashing a radiant smile at them. They both swallowed.

"So, Miss..." Tony looked to Claire.

"Parkinsom."

"How long have you known the Brents?"

"About four years, ever since I've moved here." She crossed and then uncrossed her legs.

"Have you met their nephew, Ben Stephenson?" Tony raised his eyebrows when she grinned slightly.

"Yeah, nice kid. I met him a day ago. Tried to hit on me, but I prefer men my own age." She smiled at them both of them, catching both their eyes. Tim gave Tony a sad look, before taking a breath.

"I'm sorry, Ma'am, he's dead." Tim felt a bit of guilt but waited to see how she'd react. She gasped, and put a hand to her chest.

"That's terrible. Ms. Brent will be heartbroken." She looked helplessly to each man, and wrung her hands anxiously. She then stood. "I guess I left my manners at home, would either of you like something to drink."

"Coffee, please. Sugar and cream." Tony requested pleasantly. Tim gave him a disgusted look, Claire quickly left the room and went into the kitchen. They saw her wipe a hand across her eyes, before she disappeared around the corner. Tim elbowed Tony in the side.

"What the heck? She's obviously upset, you don't have to sound so upbeat and then request coffee." Tim glared at Tony, who gave him an odd look.

"Something's wrong with this."

"What? A person mourning the loss of a life? Seems pretty normal behavior to me."

"No, Tim, she had just met him. And now she acts like the news broke her heart. And what aunt and uncle ever leave their nephew alone, in their meticulous house." Tony turned to Tim, an eyebrow raised. He pointed to the carpet. "Look." Tim leaned close to the shag carpet, his eyes spying a small fragment of-

"Glass." He breathed.

"There's some more over there." Tony nodded further into the house. "Saw it when she led us in."

Tim leaned back, "That could be from anything though." Tim tried feebly to argue back. They immediately quieted as Clair reentered the room, carrying a tray, three mugs of steaming coffee sitting on it. She turned and placed the coffee on the table, before straightening up and then letting out a piercing shriek. She pointed a finger, horrified. Tim and Tony, fluidly rose from the couch and drew their guns, facing the apparent threat. The hulking man stood a few feet away from them, a knife held threateningly toward them.

"Drop the knife!" Tony warned him, aiming the barrel if his gun at the man's forehead. Tim stood steadily besides him, a hardened look on his face, also training his gun at the man. They missed something though.

The quick flash of movement as Claire dashed quietly into the kitchen and then returned. They missed the fact that she had crept up behind Tony, and taken a batter's stance. The waved cheerily at the man, and the man grinned back at her. A second too late, Tony caught on. He didn't see the joy flash across Claire's face, as she swung the heavy frying pan at his head. Didn't see the moment of impact, he certainly felt it though. Tony dropped, limply, to the floor.

Tim finally realized their mistake. As two armed people stood in front of him, and behind. Damned if you do, damned if you don't. All of his choices had the exact same result. On instinct he swung around to face Claire. He didn't see the blow either, as the butt of a knife brutally came in contact with the back of his head. And he, like Tony, dropped to the floor like a sack of stones. Like a dead body.

Claire looked from the large man, to the two federal agents lying unconscious upon the carpet.

"Well, this just got interesting."


	5. Chapter 5

I'm so sorry for the long wait, guys. Thanks, all of you for the reviews, alerts and favorites that remind me to post more chapters of this story. I know I posted that I'd continue posting once the story was finished, but a mass of things came up. So far there are thirteen chapters, and it's still not done. But I'll post the chapters in (hopefully) regular intervals. Once again, thanks you guys. You're all fantastic.

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The door swung open smoothly, on well-oiled hinges and slammed into the wall. Tony had braced himself for the sharp noise he knew would come, but he jumped slightly anyway. He could hear Tim's breathing momentarily increase in fear, but steady almost immediately. Good, that's good Probie. Don't call attention to yourself.

Tony tried to peer out the door, but the hulking man from the house, a knife held comfortably in one hand, blocked it. He folded the blade and slipped it into his cargo pants' pocket, then stepped softly aside for the petite figure behind him. Tony peered past the figure but wasn't encouraged by the view, a long dark hallway and concrete walls. The figure walked into the room, a spring in her step. She slipped daintily into the circle of light from the low-watt bulb hanging above the men's heads, her features now illuminated clearly. Claire, a gentle smile still upon her features.

"Hello." She greeted them pleasantly, turning to both Tim and then Tony. Her gentle smile deepened slightly, a strange joy lighting up her features. Shadows filled the crevices on her face, turning an innocent looking smile, to something twisted. Tony heard Tim sharply draw in a breath, as he caught sight of her expression. "So," She gazed at Tim. "How are you?"

"Not good, I couldn't find another matching sock this morning, and then some neighbor kid stole my newspaper. Which sucks, I didn't get to read the sports section." Tony quickly interjected, drawing, to his delight, her attention away from Tim. He sighed dramatically. "But what are you going to do?" He shrugged. Claire half smiled and then nodded to the large man, who stepped into the room and shut the door with a bang. This time Tim jumped, his nerves fraying slightly, Tony poked Tim's hand in warning.

The man stepped awkwardly into the ring of light, not looking at either of the agents. Something clicked as Tony gazed at the man,

"Do I know you?" Tony gazed questioningly at the man, who looked startled and met Tony's stare.

"I don't think so." The man answered, a deep rumbling tenor. Tony tilted his head to the side.

"You sure? In an interrogation room? You did something naughty, didn't y-" Tony stopped as the man's eyes grew hard, he didn't even see the fist before it connected with his face. Tony coughed, spitting some blood, but then grinned stupidly. "So I do know you from somewhere!" Tony felt Tim turn to look at the man, and saw his face pale.

"You're Daniel Hart." Tim declared monotonously. Tony could hear the cleverly veiled fear in Tim's voice, and understood at once. Multiple homicides, first degree murder. Went to jail, but managed to break out and kill a few guards on his way. Tony swallowed. Oh no. He took a deep breath,

"So, Claire" She gazed at him, a curious expression on her face. Tony internally winced, wonderful, that might not be her real name. "Why are you hanging out with him? Are all beautiful women attracted to murderers?" She ignored him and turned back to Tim. Tony felt panic nibble at the edges of his calm exterior. Claire smiled and looked to Daniel, who nodded grimly and stepped over to Tim's side. No, no, no! Tony smoothed over his mask, composed himself the best he could, and smiled at Claire.

"So I guess it's not all beautiful women, huh? Just the unstable, psychotic ones." Tony knew he was dancing into fire, but Claire just smiled dangerously.

"Oh, you don't know how right you are." Tony gaped openly at her lighthearted, and incredibly dark response. She nodded to her thug. Tony felt Tim's head smack into his own, stars flashing in his eyes. "So, why is," She pulled a few objects out of her pocket, their badges. "NCIS investigating?" Tony didn't answer, neither did Tim.

Tony heard the rush of a fist displacing air, heard the thump and then a soft crack. Tony closed his eyes, trying to block out the soft moan emitted from his friend.

"Why do you think?" He glared venomously at her, she giggled.

"Oh Agent, Dinozzo did you say? Why does anyone ask a question? To get an answer." Claire looked deeply at him, her eyes dancing. There was another soft thump, a moan. "Ah, he was a sailor, wasn't he?" She said in a knowing tone.

"You think?" Tony turned at Tim's tone, condescending and mocking at the same time. He was turned toward her, a large bruise already blossoming on his face, which was contorted in anger. Tony raised his eyebrows. Claire clearly hadn't been expecting an answer from him, and was caught off guard.

She opened her mouth, but then closed it awkwardly; her train of thought tossed off the tracks. A slight pink tinge crept onto her cheeks. Her mask fractured for a second, piercing anger showing through. Tony clenched his jaw, wishing he could break his bonds as several more punches found their mark, another crack or two, a snap and then the sickening sound of a liquid dripping onto the floor. Tony winced in pity; Probie was going to feel that in the morning. Claire walked over behind Tony so she stood in front of Tim. She turned to Daniel.

"Your knife, please." Her voice sounded, cold and calculating. Tony felt his breath catch in his throat, he could feel Tim stiffen and shudder. Tony tugged desperately at his bonds, rocking the chair slightly. He didn't notice the man had walked over to his side until he punched him in the stomach.

"Stop." Tony looked up from trying to replace the air that punch stole from him to Daniel. Was that apprehension? On a murderer's face? "Claire, let me." Daniel turned to the woman, who grinned up at him.

"Sure." Her hand barely lifted to give him the knife, when he struck out hard at Tim's head, connecting fiercely with a loud knocking sound. Tony felt Tim go limp, as limp as he could go tied to a chair, his head slumping onto his chest. "You idiot!" Claire hissed, before checking Tim's pulse. "He's alive. You could have killed him, we may need him later." At her statement her face turned thoughtful. "Or perhaps not. Maybe we should just get rid of them." She gave a small smile. Tony involuntarily swallowed.

With a look of keen interest, she shoved the chairs off balance so they crashed into the ground. Tony felt his head connect with the cement. The darkness rushed in, clouding his vision.

"They're just dead weight anyway." Claire's voice echoed around him, distant and unfocused. As darkness covered his vision, a final image was burned into his eyes. The man and woman leaned over him, one with a look of strange glee, the other a look of mixed pain and uncertainty.

The world darkened, faded, and was black. Tony lost consciousness.


	6. Chapter 6

Another apology is owed, guys. Sorry, my computer was out of commission for the last week (Stupid thing. Kicks computer) and I wasn't able to put the next chapter up. I'm so sorry.

And a note: CODIS is the Combined DNA Index System, the DNA index for the US. Enjoy all.

**Chapter Six**

The elevator door opened smoothly revealing two disgruntled, irritated faces. Ziva stepped out first, eager to escape the small space, and was struck hard and enveloped by a fast moving object.

"Hello, Abby." She greeted, the woman breathlessly.

"Hey guys!" Abby then joyfully ran over to Gibbs, and put her arms around his neck before stepping back and drinking them in. "Where have you been? I've been alone all day, of course that's not really that unusual but I always get a visit by you Gibbs," She gave him an irritated look that didn't last long before a smile brushed it away. "It's been really quiet around here. It seems all the criminals took a vacation. Or maybe there's a holiday in the underworld, and all the bad guys are sunbathing or-" Gibbs sighed and then kissed her on the cheek, cutting off her tirade.

"It's been a long day, Abbs." Gibbs said, irritation fused in his voice. Ziva then spoke up.

"Apparently, the commanding officer had decided to go out drinking also. We were led on a...wild goose chase?" She turned expectantly to Abby who nodded. Ziva smiled. "A wild goose chase, apparently he had decided he would take a tour of popular pubs and bars. It took us two and a half hours to track him down, and by then he was not lucid enough to tell us anything besides the fact that the Petty Officer was a good man." Ziva's voice was bitter, and a bit sad. "Though his shipmates all agreed, he was a very good man. And a good friend, they could not think of anyone who would want to kill him."

Gibbs added nothing, but obviously shared the attitude. He walked over to his desk and dropped heavily, wearily into his seat, leaving Abby and Ziva to scurry after him. He looked up to Tony and Tim's desks. Empty. He checked the messages on his phone, none. His brow furrowed.

"Oh, Gibbs. Guess what?"

"You're gonna go earn your paycheck?"

"Done. Come off to my lab el Magnifico." She grinned slyly at him, and then jogged off to the elevator. Gibbs smiled slightly, stood and then walked calmly off to join her.

"What do you got, Abbs?"

"I love it when you ask me that. Can you ask again?" She grinned enthusiastically at Gibbs who just stared back, a hint of a smirk on his face. "Fine, maybe I don't want the Caf-Pow that's hiding behind your back."

"Right." Gibbs produced the container and then reached over to drop it into the trash.

"But on second thought, perhaps I do." Abby reached over to take it, but Gibbs pulled his hand back. "Oh, you want to play bard to get, eh? All right. The tox screen was negative for drugs of any kind, not even a aspirin." She eyed the still out of reach Caf-Pow. "Look at this though," She pulled up a picture of the knife wound on the body. "See, clean and not jagged at all, so the knife isn't serrated. And not very deep. So it's probably some sort of flip knife. I wasn't able to narrow down the brand though." She pulled up a second picture of the corpse's head wound, "See the wound there, it's curved in slightly and there a wood fragments imbedded in it,"

"Baseball bat?"

"Most likely, you're probably looking for some psycho with a knife and a baseball bat or the like. It's sort of weird, why use two different weapons to kill someone?" She looked Gibbs, a puzzled expression on her face.

"Maybe it's two someones." Gibbs slipped the Caf-Pow into Abby's hands. "Anything interesting in his clothes? Cell?" Abby's face turned solemn.

"Nothing interesting in his clothes, he had a chap stick and twenty dollars in his pocket, but nothing else. And no calls on the cell, it was just purchased a few days ago."

"So you got nothing."

"Oh, Gibbs." She placed a hand over her heart, in mock hurt. "You wound me. I wouldn't have personally escorted you down here if I had nothing." Abby grinned, and then gestured to the plasma. "Behold, our murderer." Gibbs peered at the plasma, and saw a DNA search was running. "Our PO fought back, and brought us his killer's DNA with him. We just have to hope he's in CODIS."

"Nice job." Gibbs gave her a rare smile and headed for the door.

"Hey, Gibbs. Have you seen Tony, or McGee?" Abby called out, Gibbs stopped in mid step. Turned to her and paused. Tony had called to inform him they had arrived an hour and a half ago; he was supposed to call when they left. Gibbs gut quickly whispered to him. Something was askew. "Is there something wrong? Oh my God!" Her hands flew to her face, "There is something wrong isn't there?"

"Abbs, I sent them to interview the family in Norfolk. It's a long drive." Gibbs soothed her and then walked away, worry growing within him.

Abby stood despondently in the doorway, but was shaken by the ding of the elevator. Her jaw set grimly she walked back to her computer and began working quickly, but then buried her face in her hands. She had seen the concern in Gibbs' face. The fear he would never admit to feeling.

There was something wrong, so very wrong. She pulled herself together, and went back to typing. She couldn't lose anyone else; she wasn't strong enough to lose two more members of her family.

A single tear fell.

The door to autopsy slid open with a slight hiss, and then closed. Ducky smiled, not turning away from the computer screen, he could feel someone standing right behind him, close enough that he could reach out and touch them.

"Hello, Jethro. How was your escapade?" Ducky turned the swivel chair around to face his friend, who half smiled and then sighed.

"What do you got, Duck?"

"Ah, not well I see." Ducky chuckled, and then stood. "Mr. Palmer!" The side door opened, and Jimmy's head appeared.

"Yes, Doctor Mallard?"

"Have our Petty Officer report front and center, immediately." Ducky gestured to the freezers. Jimmy opened up one of the many freezer doors, cold air rushing out in a fog, and pulled out the drawer.

"Slow week?" Gibbs gave Ducky a knowing look.

"Yes, apparently our Navy personal have learned to avoid Rock Creek Park." Gibbs grinned into his coffee at Ducky's comment. Both then walked over to Jimmy and the body and slipped on latex gloves. "See Jethro? The knife wound? It's barely an inch deep, and while rather gruesome, it's not fatal."

"Abby suspects it's a flip knife."

"Yes, she conveyed that to me also, however if this wound was caused by a flip knife the attacker would have easily been able to kill our Petty Officer. Very easily."

"So he's either an amateur,"

"Or he didn't intend the stab to be fatal. Look at this." Ducky directed Gibbs' attention to some x-rays of the skull. Jimmy gently tucked the Petty Officer's body back into the freezer, shut the door and then slipped away.

"The initial blow, struck the young man behind the head."

"Was he knocked unconscious?"

"Most likely, or he would have been barely conscious at all. Unable to fend off the either of his attackers." Ducky studied Gibbs intensely, "You suspected a second attacker."

"Keeping those skills sharp, eh Duck?" Ducky grinned to himself but turned more serious as he faced the x-rays again.

"Now the second blow was the fatal one. Fractured his skull, causing a shard of the bone to plunge into his brain. If he was unconscious, he never woke up." Ducky shook his head sadly, "Young life cut so short. Jethro,"

"Yeah?"

"Be careful. The attacker that wielded the baseball bat," Ducky paused, "They're vicious, merciless. They beat an unconscious, badly injured man one more time over the head. They did not hesitate because he was stabbed, because he was bleeding. Be careful, Jethro."

"Course, Duck. I always try to be safe." Gibbs grinned one last time at Ducky and then exited Autopsy. Though just as he left, he let the worry back into his face. Ducky sighed, and looked to the closed freezer door, that shielded the Petty Officer.

"Who did this to you?" He murmured under his breath, and then went back to work.


	7. Chapter 7

Thanks guys, I know, I like writing Tim and Tony better than these scenes but they have to be there.

Yeah, I'm such a weakling with hurting these characters. So it's more of minor to moderate whump than actual torture.

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**Chapter Seven**

The elevator shuddered to a stop and went dim as Gibbs flicked the emergency switch on. He closed his eyes and rubbed his face. Then sighed deeply.

He cursed softly under his breath, him and his damn gut. He flipped open his phone and checked his messages. Still empty. He cursed again, angrily slamming the phone shut and balling his hand into a fist tightly around the phone.

Something was wrong, so very wrong. Had he sent them to a trap? To their untimely deaths? He was jumping to conclusions, never assume, double check. He reprimanded himself quickly and then flicked the emergency switch again. The elevator shuddered from the frequent abuse, but grudgingly started the trip upwards once more. Tense, Gibbs surged out of the elevator as soon as it opened to the bullpen.

"Ziva!" Gibbs didn't even wait until he had taken two steps from the elevator before calling out to her. Ziva jumped and then stood at attention.

"Gibbs?"

"Call Dinozzo." At the order she obediently sat down, picked up her phone and started dialing his number. Gibbs reached his own desk in a matter of minutes, took out his cell, once again, and dialed the number for Tim's cell. He held the phone to his ear and waited, listening impatiently to the dial tone.

"Hi, you've reached the cell phone of Tim McGee. I'm sorry, I can't answer at the moment, but leave a message and I'll get right back to you."

Beep!

"McGee, damn it! Never be unreachable! Call me back!" Gibbs retaliated upon his cell phone, violently disconnecting the call. He looked to Ziva who shook her head, her features now peppered with concern. Gibbs picked up his phone and dialed a different number.

"Abby's lab, what's your forensic conundrum or mystery?"

"Abby, trace Dinozzo and McGee's cell phones."

"Oh my gosh." Abby breathed from the other side of the line. "Gibbs, I was right wasn't I? Something's wrong, oh no, I knew something bad was going to happen today! See I had this dream last night and-"

"Focus Abbs!" Gibbs ordered, trying to not lose his temper. Abby's voice sputtered out; there was the sound of typing and after a few minutes-

"They're right in front of the relatives' house of your Petty Officer."

"Together?"

"Yeah. Gibbs?"

"Mmhm, Abbs?"

"Please, bring them home." Abby's plea was so desperate, so scared.

"I will, Abby." He gently placed the phone in the receiver and turned to an expectant Ziva. "Gear up." Ziva hefted her bag onto her shoulder and started for the elevators. "And Ziva," She turned. "Call the LEO's in Norfolk, tell them to get to this address, and to look for us." She nodded stiffly, keeping her emotions under wraps. Gibbs put on his firearm and grabbed his badge and then joined Ziva in the elevator. The door closed.

It often takes three and a half hours to reach the area of Norfolk from the Navy Yard.

Though this was Gibbs' normal driving, fueled by the determination to find his agents, the foreboding feeling in his gut and a fear he'd never admit to having. They arrived in just over one.

The local LEOs jumped back as the car barreled down the quiet road and then suddenly pulled up to the curb next to the police cars. Gibbs jumped out, clearly a man on a mission. Ziva followed a little more shakily, it was an example of how driven Gibbs was, that his driving had shocked even Ziva. She swallowed and followed Gibbs to the chief officer and his subordinates. The man had obviously dealt with Gibbs before, and smiled slightly as he marched over.

"Should I arrest you now or later? You probably broke quite a few speeding laws on your way here." He raised an eyebrow at Gibbs. Gibbs stared grimly at him. The Officer gestured to the empty car parked a little further down the street. "Is that your men's?" Gibbs nodded tensely.

"Ziva. Call Dinozzo." At Gibbs order Ziva pulled out her cell phone. The entire company jumped as a ringing sound came from the grass a few feet away. Gibbs followed the sound and then knelt down into the grass. Tony and Tim's cell phones. Damn. "You have officers surrounding the house?"

"Just waiting for you Gibbs. They're your men." The Officer gave him a sad smile, as though he was already anticipating the worst. Gibbs and Ziva unholstered their weapons and followed the Officer up to the house.

"Hold on, do you have a warrant?" The Officer turned to Gibbs, who simply walked up to the door and twisted the knob. It turned all the way.

"Sometimes we get lucky." The Officer opened his mouth but was too late to object. Gibbs had turned, held up his weapon, and with Ziva close behind, entered the house. The Officer cursed softly.

"All officers enter the house, remain wary. Be careful." He spoke in a hushed tone, into his radio and then he himself slipped into the house.

"Clear!"

"Clear!"

"Clear, there's nothing here, Agent Gibbs. Not even your men." The Officer sheathed his weapon. Gibbs looked helplessly around, as if Tony would pop out from behind a chair, or Tim would walk in from the kitchen, an annoyed expression on his face.

"Gibbs!" Ziva's voice called urgently from the living room, Gibbs practically ran to her. She pointed breathlessly to the carpet. "There is glass fragments and...and blood." Small spots of blood were dried into the carpet.

"Hey! You should see this." The Officer walked toward them from the kitchen. "There's a whole lot of blood in there." He stuck his thumb to the kitchen; his face a shade paler than it had been before.

"Ziva, take samples of the blood." Gibbs ordered. Another detective appeared through the back door.

"Sir," Gibbs shot the young man a withering look, his eyes widened in surprise. "There's a large barn, a few yards back." Gibbs looked to Ziva, who nodded to him, and packed away the samples in her backpack. He could see the anger in her eyes. The ferocity. They quickly followed the young man back through the neatly cut lawn and beyond the tree line. A large barn stood off to one side. Gibbs felt his heartbeat speed up and adrenaline pump through his veins. He saw the recent tracks in the dirt, the evidence of something being dragged, the scrapes where the doors had opened. So close. Gibbs charged into the barn, his gun trained in front of him.

Nothing. There was completely and absolutely nothing. Just a bit of stale hay on the floor and nothing else. He heard Ziva sigh in disappointment besides him. They had lost Tim and Tony. Gibbs almost jumped as his phone rang.

"Yeah?"

"Gibbs! Did you find them?"

"Abby," Gibbs wearily rubbed his face. "Do you have anything of value to tell me?"

"Oh no, you didn't find them."

"Abbs, please."

"I was checking into the bank records of the Brents, a few years ago they built a storm cellar under their barn, actually they hired someone to do it-"

"There's a cellar under the barn?" Ziva turned at Gibbs exclamation; understanding dawned on her face immediately. She started scanning the floor, brushing away straw. Until she hit a metal door.

"Gibbs!" She yelled, her voice echoing around the barn. The Officer ran over and began uncovering the door.

"Thanks Abbs." Gibbs hastily hung up and ran over to Ziva. He knelt down and hoisted open the trap door, Ziva then took out her flashlight and gun. "Ziva, be careful." She gave him a sly look and slipped effortlessly into the hole. Gibbs followed, the Officer then dropped in after him.

The three made their way down the dark hallway, shining their flashlights down into the black abyss. Finally they reached a solid door. Swallowing back fear and excitement, Ziva swung open the door.

There, in the middle of the room, illuminated by the light of their flashlights, lay two unmoving bodies and a small pool of blood.


	8. Chapter 8

And we're back to the guys; I could never kill Tim or Tony (At least not in this story). Thank you all so much, for your reviews and alerts. You're all a fantastic bunch.

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**Chapter Eight**

Tony's eyes opened slowly, fluttering slightly as his mind tried to organize itself. He blinked a bit more, wondering if his eyes were actually open, for he could see nothing but a wall of darkness, pressing in upon his eyeballs. After deciding that his eyes were open, he tried to figure out why he was lying upon a concrete floor, hands tied behind his back and ankles tied together.

Ah, memory filtered in followed by a splitting headache and aching muscles. He almost wished he hadn't remembered, as he pressed his throbbing head against the cool ground. At least it wasn't as painful. And a sinking feeling, had quickly taken root in his stomach, these people were mad. Insane, nutcakes.

Tim. Tony felt fear grip him. How could he have completely forgotten about his friend? He had taken quite a few more punches than Tony had, and by the way they sounded, had broken some bones.

"Hell is the place where one has ceased to hope.'" Tony froze at the bodiless voice in the darkness. "A. J. Cronin, smart man." The voice said thoughtfully, and a bit strained, as if in pain.

"McGee?" Of course it was McGeek, who else would be nerdy enough to talk to themselves while being kidnapped, and have quotes ready no less. Tony grinned as relief washed through him, glad the darkness shrouded his facial features.

"Tony?"

"No, William Shatner. Of course it's me."

"I...I didn't know you were in here," Tim shook his head slightly, and then gave a muffled moan as his head throbbed painfully on more than one side.

"You okay?" Tim almost smiled at the concern in Tony's voice.

"Yeah, I just groan in pain normally."

"Oh, growing a sense of humor are we, McGee? A hell of a time to make jokes." Tony listened as Tim started to chuckle but stopped suddenly, and sharply drew in a breath. "Broken rib?"

"Ribs." Tony grimaced in sympathy. "And you?"

"A bump to the head, and aching a bit but that's all. Now answer the question, McDeflect. Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." Tim closed his eyes, as the lie slipped out easily. He had learned something from Tony over the years. He had never been in this much pain in his life.

"Oh, Probie-san. You are but a padawan learner in complicated art of lying. Keep in mind you're speaking to your Jedi master."

Tim sighed. "It hurts all over, it hurts to breathe, think, pretty much do anything. I can practically feel my ribs grinding together." Tony heard the pain in Tim's voice. He needed to get to hospital before the broken ribs did any real damage. He bit his lip, thinking. Then a thought hit him, and he almost wished a light bulb would appear. At least he'd be able to see. Tim seemed to sense something amiss when he received no reply. "Tony?"

"McGee, what's rule number nine?"

"Always carry a-" Tim understood immediately. "My knife isn't on me, I think they took it." He shuddered at the thought of their captors searching their unconscious bodies.

"Didn't take mine."

"What? What do you mean they didn't take your knife? Did they take the courtesy to clean your gun too?"

Tony decided to ignore that barb. "Crawl over here. I need you to help take off my belt."

"Are you insane!"

"What? Am I not your type?" Tony grinned, razzing Tim was so easy. He listened and his grin grew bigger as he heard the slight choking sound Tim made as he tried to formulate a sentence. And then failed. "My knife is in my belt, Tim."

"Oh."

"Really though, what is your type?"

"Tony."

"Yeeeeesss?"

"You thought up a plan, right?"

"Come on over, Probie. My hands are tied."

"Tony, I'm not jostling my ribs. You're going to have to come over here."

"Wow, McGee. Do you usually move this fast?"

"For the love of- focus Tony." Tony grinned at the frustration in Tim's voice, but turned serious and began to half crawl, slide and wiggle in the direction of Tim's voice. He reached out a foot gently and prodded a soft object. "Ow! Careful."

"There you are, McGiggle." Tony sidled up next to Tim. "Keep your hands north of the equator, Probie."

"Oh, shut up Tony."

Ziva, her heart catching in her throat, and fear rising within her, sprinted up to the two motionless bodies. Observing at once that neither of the chests were rising or falling. She shined her flashlight at a different angle, and sighed in relief, and horror.

"Gibbs, it is not them." Her shoulders slumped as the tension decreased slightly but tensed up again. Tim and Tony were still missing. Gibbs had also felt relief flood through him, though he didn't show it. He joined Ziva and added his beam of light to her's. He furrowed his brow slightly, recognition flashing onto his face.

"It's the Brents." He commented quietly. Ziva gazed closer at the still, pale faces. Recognition also appeared on her face as she compared them to the photos of the Brents. The Officer walked up next to Gibbs and peered down, wrinkling his nose slightly at the sight. Someone had gone rouge on their heads and bludgeoned the backs in.

"I'll get my men, and my ME."

"They're our best lead. My ME can handle the autopsy."

"Right. Two dead civilians, and no evidence that the same person murdered both these people and your sailor. Plus the fact that your ME is three hours away. Sort of tilts the scale in our favor." The Officer stared right back as Gibbs tried to bore holes into his eyes. Finally, not dropping his gaze, Gibbs responded.

"Fine, but our ME gets the results from the autopsy, and you share any information you find."

"And vice versa?"

"Yes." Gibbs then turned to Ziva. "Ziva, go interview the neighbors. See if they saw anything at all. Anything."

"Yes, Gibbs." Ziva turned stiffly and stepped out of the room and started down the hall.

"Wait!" Ziva turned, surprised, at the Officer's voice. "One of my men is going with you." He picked up his phone and dialed a number, commanded into the phone, "Get down here." And then hung up. The young man who had discovered the barn rushed down the hallway. "Davies!"

"Sir?"

"Go with Agent David, interview the neighbors."

"Yes, sir." He promptly turned to Ziva who gazed back at him with some interest, like the way a cat surveys her prey. She scanned him, and then smiled toothily. Davies swallowed and then blushed heavily. Ziva, with a sly look on her face swept off down the hallway, the green officer in tow.

Tim winced again as a wave of pain washed through him, but continued grimly with his set task.

"Can you snap the ropes yet?" Tim asked Tony, almost desperately. Tony strained against his bonds, gaining a bit more leeway but not enough.

"You're going to have to keep going, McGee." Tim sighed and then resumed moving the knife against the ropes that bound Tony's hands. Tim grinned as he felt the ropes give way, and fall to the floor. Tony gently took the knife from Tim, freed his feet and to Tim's surprise, with the gentleness of someone handling a newborn, sawed away at the bonds on Tim's wrists.

"Didn't know you cared, Tony." Tim stated, half joking and half serious.

"I've had broken ribs before, not fun. Plus McGoo, I never kick a man when he's down. It's unsportsmanlike." Tim grinned at Tony's matter of fact, and slightly amused statement. And then gasped as the rope fell away. With the help of Tony, he raised himself unsteadily into an upright position. "See, there you go. Get your sea legs."

"Please don't talk about the sea." Tim felt nausea come over him as his vision, which was finally accustomed to the dark, spun in front of him. He closed his eyes and almost fell, before Tony, whose eyes had also adjusted, reached out to steady him.

"Easy, don't want to kill yourself and rob the opportunity from Gibbs, when he finds out we were stupid enough to get kidnapped." He lowered Tim, who had been leaning heavily on him, to the floor.

"I think I'm going to be sick."

"Oh, Probie. Don't stink up our cell." Tony gestured dramatically around the dark room. "I just cleaned up." Tim grinned at Tony's antics, focusing on them instead of his dizziness and an increasing difficulty to fill his lungs.

"Tony!" Tim whispered, stopping Tony's tirade. "Listen." Tony stood still, and then froze as he and Tim heard the same noise.

"Footsteps." Tony breathed. He then tensed up and got into a ready stance, concealing the small knife slightly. Tim whimpered as he tried to join Tony, Tony held out a hand to help him up but then gestured to a corner far from the door. "You're in no shape to take on anyone. You'd get your ass handed to you by a little girl now." Tim opened his mouth to protest, but Tony shook his head. "I'm not going to get you killed, Tim. Gibbs would have my head."

Tony turned to the door as it opened slowly, deliberately. Tony ghosted to the side, and then jumped on the advancing figure.

Daniel Hart. Tim cursed silently; Tony was completely outmatched by about half a foot and a hundred pounds. Tim tried to tell who was who as the two men struggled, intertwined in some strange, deadly dance. Hart was thrown down and Tony flew down on top of him, but was thrown off by a particularly vicious punch. The small knife, and their only weapon flew off into the darkness and was lost. Hart stood slowly, and with rage in his features stood over a dazed Tony.

Tim closed his eyes, trying to block out the thought of how much this would hurt him, and did something stupid. He charged. Full out sprinted, his ribs screaming, his head calling his subconscious a lunatic, and Tony watching with a surprised and worried expression on his face.

Though Tim was wrong in one respect, it hurt so much more than he had anticipated. But he was plowing shoulder-first into a brick wall of a man.

Breathing was no longer an option for Tim as all the breath was stolen from him by the impact, and agony ripped through his being. Tim and Hart both tumbled backward, much to Hart's surprise, and landed awkwardly in the hallway. Tony, seizing opportunity, jumped into the fray once again. His face despite the bruises, was determined and concerned at the same time. Tim lost all sense of time, the fight could have lasted two minutes or several sunlit days. Tim didn't know and lost all lucidity as yet another blow clipped his head. He mechanically lashed out at who he thought Hart was, but in the darkness and tangle of the three men, it could have been anyone.

In reality, the fight was over quickly. Tim marveled at how fast the tides had turned for and then against them, as Hart squeezed the life out of him, beneath his foot and then punched Tony back into their cell, where he lay, stirring slightly but not rising. He saw blackness hover around the edges of his vision, and sound became muffled and hollow. Then, he felt the boot on his throat draw back slightly and he was able to draw a breath. The darkness began to recede slightly, and Harts face swam across his vision. Anger and...pity? No, that wasn't it. Guilt, regret?

In a moment Tim felt the darkness fast approaching again as his body decided it had, had enough abuse. He felt his limbs, now dead weight, swing loose from where he had been trying to move Hart's shoe and drop onto the floor. His body limp, he felt himself being tossed unceremoniously back into the cell.

And joined Tony in the blissful, pain-free darkness.

Ziva jogged up to the house and looked back with some satisfaction. Anxious and worried, she was unwilling to walk to the neighbors' house, and thinking the car had been too slow, took off running. Leaving the detective surprised and in the dust. She grinned coolly as Davies, panting and clutching a stitch in his side, joined her.

"Hello, Detective."

"You could have waited." He gave her a small frown.

"We have no time to wait." She grimly stared up to the house, her small happiness before, evaporated. Davies straightened up and followed her up to the house. Walking stealthily Ziva turned once more to Davies.

"I am sorry, I...I am just frustrated. And I took it out on you."

"It's alright, it's all part of the job, right?" He gave a small grin. "Haze the newbie. I'm pretty new to this stuff, anyway. Got my badge a few weeks ago." A dash of pride entered his voice. Ziva smiled faintly, and wished Tony were here to call her a Probie, and Tim to grin knowingly and say nothing. "Ma'am."

"Ziva." Ziva responded automatically, stirred from her wishes.

"Okay. Ziva look!" She turned to the detective who was pointing to dark maroon stains along the bottom of the door. Blood. Ziva fluidly drew her weapon and twisted the doorknob, the door was open. With Davies following, they quickly cleared the house. Ziva examined the dried patch of blood in the entryway, Davies stood besides her following her gaze. Then something caught her gaze a few feet away from the bloodstain. She crouched down close to the object, her eyes widened.

Petty Officer, Benjamin Stephenson. Their petty officer's ID.

Ziva flipped open her cell. "Gibbs, we have found where Petty Officer Stephenson was killed."


	9. Chapter 9

Here's the next chapter guys, unfortunately the guys aren't in it. They're in the next chapter though. The eighth chapter was my favorite to write and I'm really glad you guys liked it, Tim and Tony are just gold when they're together. The writers need them to get kidnapped or something. Thanks all of you, the reviews you guys leave are amazing.

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**Chapter Nine**

Ziva and Davies stood lost in the neighbor's house. Davies shifted uncomfortably and looked to Ziva, unsure of what to do next. Ziva was watching the open door impatiently, but even those who knew her well couldn't see through the mask to her anxiousness and distress. She needed to be doing something. Anything! Not just standing here like a marker, for someone else to come in and do the work. Ziva breathed out, she had been holding her breath for some reason. Ziva clenched her teeth together; this was not the time to be emotional. There was work to be done, friends to save.

"Ziva," Davies timidly gazed at her. Ziva raised an eyebrow, she must have lost control over her features for a moment and shown her frustrations.

"Yes, Davies?"

"Are you alright?" He swallowed as she gave him a look. "Of course you're not alright, your coworkers are missing. Sorry." Ziva almost snorted, he reminded her of the Tim she had first met so many years ago. More memories floated to the top of her subconscious. She really hoped they were alright. Gibbs and the Officer finally arrived, the Officer panting just as Davies had been. Only a lock of Gibbs' hair was astray. Gibbs opened his mouth to ask, but caught sight of the bloodstain and the ID.

He turned to Ziva and nodded. Ziva began to analyze the crime scene and take samples of the blood. She then took the fingerprint kit from Gibbs who had grabbed it from the car before he came and handed it to Davies. Who dutifully accepted it. Gibbs pulled out his cell phone and dialed a number.

"Hey Abbs, I-"

"Gibbs, did you find them!"

"Not yet."

"When then? Gibbs they're in the hands of a killer! They might be tortured or worse! We need to-"

"Abby," Gibbs cut through Abby's rambling, panicked monologue. "I need the name of the owner for," He glanced at the address. "418 Rosewood Avenue, Norfolk." There was a small pause, taps and then,

"Claire Parkinsom. Her record is spotless though, she's been really good, Gibbs. Why are you in her house?"

"Found dried blood and Petty Officer Stephenson's ID there."

"Ooh, perhaps someone's been flying under the radar."

"Call me if you have anything, bye Abbs.

Gibbs hung up.

o-o

Abby listened to the dial tone for a few seconds before hanging up her phone too. She sighed.

"Why do you guys always have to get in trouble?" She asked, no one answered though. Abby may talk to her machines, but she wasn't insane enough (Yet.) to expect them to answer back.

Ding!

Abby jumped, and then stumbled slightly on her platform boots. She had forgotten about the DNA that she had been searching on CODIS. Finally a bit of luck! A small smile on her face, she turned and looked to her computer screen.

The smile fell, and dread took root. "Oh, no." She whispered. The grim face of Daniel Hart stared blankly out into the lab, and a warrant for his arrest was typed next to his picture in big, bolded print, along with his crimes. Multiple homicide, manslaughter, assault of a federal officer, murder of a federal officer. A cop killer. Abby felt panic return in full force. Her hands shaking, she opened her phone and tried twice to call Gibbs and finally succeeded.

"Gibbs."

"Gibbs! Gibbs, oh my gosh-"

"Abby?"

"Yes, yes it's me! Gibbs you know that DNA match I was running? You know from the DNA found in the Petty Officer's fingernails?" Abby blurted out.

"Abbs, calm down. You're hyperventilating. Yeah I remember." Gibbs was worried now, Abby spoke quickly, especially under the influence of caffeine, but this was something else.

"I got a match. Daniel Hart." There was a beat before Gibbs responded.

"Daniel Hart, the one that broke out of jail and injured those two guards?"

"Killed actually, they both died a few hours ago from their injuries, but yeah. The one and only. Gibbs, you have to find them! This guy, he kills for no reason. He's unstable Gibbs."

"He killed four people, Abbs. He's a bit more than 'unstable'. We'll be back in about an hour if we're lucky, call me if you got anything else." And without waiting for a reply, he hung up. Gibbs looked to Ziva, who gazed determinedly back at him.

"Done." Ziva stated. Gibbs then looked to the Officer.

"Looks like we'll be working together a bit more." The Officer said with a slight smile.

"You guys have a forensics specialist?"

The Officer's face turned slightly bitter. "Not anymore. Budget cuts, we send our samples out."

Gibbs smiled, but then his face turned grim. "Ours can take care of it then. We need to get back, fast." He raised an eyebrow. "Police escort?"

The Officer sighed.

o-o

Abby stood impatiently in the middle of the bullpen, watching the elevator. Starting slightly as it opened with a ding, she rushed over to greet the occupants, but stopped in disappointment as it was neither Gibbs nor Ziva. And then retreated back to the bullpen, shoulders slumped.

She looked to Tim's desk, and shuffled his pens around for lack of anything better to do. She smiled slightly. Tim hated it when people took his pens, well, hated really wasn't the word. He always knew it was Tony or herself, and acted irritated but had this funny little half smile on his face. He knew the pens would find their way home by the end of the day.

The elevator door dinged and slid open, revealing a worried looking Ziva, a determined Gibbs, and two harried looking local officers.

"Gibbs!" Abby practically flew over to him and into a hug. Gibbs stepped back slightly as she fiercely enveloped him. They parted.

"Got a present for you, Abby." Gibbs held up evidence bags, blood samples and fingerprints pulled from both houses and the barn. Squaring her jaw slightly, Abby took the bags.

"We'll find them, Gibbs. We have forensics on our side, and it's almost never wrong." Abby then set off to her lab. The Officer and Davies glanced a little confused at each other, and back to the retreating form of Abby as she turned a corner and passed out of sight.

"Ziva," Gibbs turned to Ziva, who gazed at him.

"Look for anything connecting Claire Parkinsom and Daniel Hart to Petty Officer Stephenson. And then check both of their bank accounts for anything recent." Ziva nodded and rushed over to her computer, determination and a slight vindictiveness on her face. Gibbs didn't want to be in her way once they found Tony and Tim's kidnappers. Of course that would be after he dealt with them, Gibbs thought with some satisfaction.

"I'll call our ME and get the autopsy reports." The Officer took out his cell phone and walked away to get a bit of quiet to make his call.

o-o

The elevator door began to slide softly at the ding, but Gibbs strode out impatiently before the door even fully opened.

"Gibbs, it's only been," Abby looked to her clock, her eyebrows rising in surprise. "Oh, half an hour?" Gibbs firmly placed the Caf Pow on the desk and Abby instinctively wrapped her hand around it, though her face clearly said that she wasn't actually interested in drinking it.

"What do you got?" He asked gently, but there was an undercurrent of tenseness there. Abby gestured to the plasma, which shown two fingerprint matches.

"These are the fingerprints you found in the barn and the Brent's house," She nodded to the ones on the left "And these are the ones you found, in Claire Parkinsom's house. I compared them to Daniel Hart's, and Claire Parkinsom's. They were both in the Brent's home and the barn." Abby then pulled up a different screen, this is from the drops of blood in the Brent's living room." Her lip trembled slightly. "It's O-, neither the Brents nor Parkinsom or Hart have that blood type."

"Who does?"

"McGee. Gibbs,"

"Anything else?" He stopped her gently, and tried to redirect. He didn't need Abby freaking out. Abby took a breath.

"The blood from the kitchen matches both of the Brents and the blood from Parkinsom's entryway matches Petty Officer Stephenson's." Abby looked, worried, to Gibbs. Who gently hugged her.

"Don't worry, Abbs."

"Just promise me one thing."

"What?" Gibbs tried to not think that he was shooting himself in the foot; if she asked for something he couldn't give.

"Once you find those bastards, can I at least have a few minutes alone with them?" Abby looked positively murderous. Gibbs grinned. He leaned over and whispered in her ear.

"I'd like them alive, Abby." He kissed her softly on the cheek, and she gave a small smile.

o-o

"Our ME says that the Brents both died from blunt force trauma to their heads. Someone really went to town on them." The Officer stepped back into the bullpen as Ziva and Davies both looked up from Ziva's computer screen. "She found some wood fragments in both wounds, probably from-"

"-A baseball bat." Gibbs entered the bullpen.

"I thought you said we were sharing info." The Officer said, a bemused expression on his face.

"You didn't ask." Gibbs looked out the large windows; the sky was slowly darkening as the day retreated. Damn, they were going too slow. "The blood in the kitchen belonged to the Brents, the blood in the entryway belongs to our Petty Officer, and the blood in the dining room belongs to one of my agents." He saw Ziva narrow her eyes slightly. Between her and Abby, Parkinsom and Hart had a snowball's chance in hell of hiding. "Ziva,"

"There have been no recent transactions, nor any purchases. And there is nothing connecting either Hart or Parkinsom to Petty Officer Stephenson. They most likely never met before now. The Brents have no connection with them either."

"I don't believe in coincidences." Gibbs pressed his lips tightly together.

"But that's what looks like happened." The Officer interjected. Gibbs turned to Ziva, who stared back and to Davies, who shifted uncomfortably, looking a bit anxious. He turned, and took another look out the window. The moon had begun to peek over the horizon.

They were running out of time.


	10. Chapter 10

Thank you, guys. Even with a boring chapter (Well, I thought it was boring.) you guys still give encouraging reviews. *Hugs*

Note: The adoption thing in here, I know that it's totally implausible, just try to overlook it and keep going.

**

* * *

Chapter Ten**

Pain.

That's all there was as Tim shed his unconscious state. One groan couldn't express the amount of agonizing pain he was in, though he let a soft one out anyway. His groan mixed slightly with a, he was not proud to say, pathetic, pain-filled whimper.

"I hear you're feeling good too, huh Probie?" Tim could almost see Tony smiling at him.

"Never better." Another breath was cut short by his broken ribs, and he whimpered again in quite an unmanly manner.

"Tim?" Tony glanced over to Tim's prone form. "You okay?"

"Fine."

"Look on the bright side."

"There's a bright side?"

"Look," Tony waved his hands in front of him. "Our hands are tied in the front now!" Tony said with enthusiasm, a large grin on his face. Tim laughed slightly, though it was tinged with slight hysteria, his body shaking slightly. He halted suddenly, and gave a muffled cry in the pain that the movement caused. Tony crawled shakily over, his vision swaying a bit and then steadying. "McGee?" He reached out his tied hands and softly, almost fearfully, prodded Tim. Tim turned to Tony and a strained smile slipped onto his face, in spite of his pale appearance.

"So, how are you?" Tim's smile fell away even as the question left his lips as he glimpsed Tony's face. Though covered in shadows, the deep, dark bruises stood out harshly on his face. His eyes were slightly glazed over. Wonderful, the only other capable fighter there was now injured also. Probably had a concussion.

"Great."

"Liar."

"Calling the kettle black, eh pot?" Tim snorted began to laugh a bit, through more stress relief than actual amusement, but went into a violent coughing fit.

"You're...you're..." Tim fruitlessly tried to catch his breath, but only succeeded in delving headfirst into another coughing fit, more vicious than before. He could feel Tony helping him into a crouching position and awkwardly rubbing his back. Tears of pain rolling down his cheeks, he was finally able to draw a constricted breath. "You're killing me, Tony."

"Not me."

"I think I'm going to be sick." Tim said faintly. Pursing his lips slightly, Tony braced himself and moved himself out of Tim's line of sight as Tim convulsed and lost the contents of his stomach, which wasn't much, on the ground. "Sorry." Tim breathed out as soon as could speak.

"You look like Hell, McGoo."

"I feel like it." Exhausted, Tim slumped flat onto the floor; not even expressing the pain the movement caused him, and shut his eyes. Tony also leaned back against the wall, and pressed the palms of his hands against his forehead, trying to dull the headache that has begun to form. Head throbbing mercilessly, his thoughts moved more sluggishly than normal. The rope began to scrape his forehead; he pulled away from the irritation and looked to Tim. He really did look terrible, his face unnaturally pale, marred with fresh purple bruises, and a few large cuts, his features were drawn with pain and had new worry, and distress lines. Poor Probie, at least he wasn't conscious.

"I wish I had a Cheeseburger right now." Tony even surprised himself with that comment. Random, or perhaps not. It had been quite a few hours since they had eaten.

"Ah, no food talk please." So Tim was awake. Tim squeezed his closed eyelids together, forming a queasy looking expression. "I'd like some pain medication." Tony half smiled, but then caught sight of the contents of Tim's stomach that he recently evicted from their residence. He paled.

"That's not good."

"What?" Tim opened his eyes. "What else could possibly go wrong?"

"Blood."

"What?"

"You...you threw up blood." Tony couldn't keep the concern from his face nor the slight fear from edging his voice.

"Well, maybe things could get worse."

o-o

Gibbs wearily rubbed his eyes and looked in irritation to the empty coffee cup on his desk. Unlike cats, his glare did nothing to the coffee cup. Looking up from the coffee cup, Gibbs surveyed the office. A member of the cleaning staff patrolled slowly around emptying garbage can and a panicked and green looking Agent from another team was rushing to finish paperwork. But aside from them, the office was empty save Gibbs and Ziva, who had fallen asleep on her keyboard.

Gibbs sighed and half glanced at his watch, 4:30 am. They had stayed there all night. He could see glimmers of the sun beginning to appear over the horizon, staining the sky a light pink.

"Good morning, Sir." Gibbs glanced up in slight surprise at the voice, and the 'Sir' that accompanied it. Davies set down a cup of coffee in front of him and then one in front of Ziva, who rose wearily and grasped the cup. After taking a sip of the coffee, Gibbs decided to let the 'Sir' slide. The Officer was close behind Davies, a cup in his own hand.

"So either of you got anything?"

"Nada. Your agents, Hart and Parkinsom seemed to have disappeared off the face of the Earth." The Officer looked in slight pity to Gibbs, he had lost subordinates before. An out of breath Abby appeared around the corner, a piece of paper in one hand, her platforms in the other. Spying the team, the Officer and Davies, she rushed over, a triumphant look in her eyes.

"Gibbs!" She shouted, but then lowered her voice as the janitor and green agent jumped. "Gibbs! Gibbs, I got something." She stopped and hugged him. She pulled away. "Though shouldn't you have known that? What happened to your ESP skills?"

"You had something, Abbs?" Gibbs tried to guide her back on track.

"Yes, I found a possible location that Hart and Parkinsom might have taken McGee and Tony to."

"What?" Ziva had perked up from behind Gibbs.

"Yeah! Parkinsom's grandfather owns a cabin in the woods. And I checked some recent satellite footage, someone's staying there. And the grandfather's dead."

"No, I checked her file. Both grandfathers are still alive, Abby." Ziva raised an eyebrow at Abby, as if daring her to contradict her.

"That's where it gets to the good part. She was adopted." Abby grinned.

"That was not in her file."

"Exactly, do you want to know how I found it? See there were these minor discrepancies so I decided to check with-"

"Abby!"

"Skipping to the juicy bit, el Magnifico. See he left it to her in his will, but it was under her given name. So it wouldn't show up on her file, if her adoption wasn't on there. They must have never filed for an official adoption." She then held up the piece of paper. "The address." Gibbs gave her a stunning, but brief smile and gently plucked the paper from her hand. He placed a gently kiss on her cheek.

"Nice work." He uttered softly.

"Bring them home, Gibbs. Please." She whispered back. He gave her a small smile.

"Let's go!" He called to Ziva, Davies and the Officer. Ziva had a vengeful smile on her face, excitement and nervousness glinted in Davies' young eyes, and the Officer's face only adopted a grim look. This could go terribly wrong, he looked to Davies, he had never been into a situation like this before.

"I'll call for backup." The Officer called to Gibbs as he followed him into the elevator.

"Be careful." Abby muttered under her breath.

The elevator door shut.

o-o

Tim and Tony stared at each other for a few seconds, each unwilling to break the silence. Finally, as both men knew would have to happen, the silence was broken. But not by either of them, the door slid open, emitting a soft squeal. They both looked up, Hart entered the room, but something was different. Perhaps it was the way he carried himself, Tim couldn't place it.

He bent down and set down two water bottles, and then straightened up. He turned to leave and Tim raised his eyebrows at Tony, who shrugged.

"Hey!" Darn it, Tony! Tim wished he could reach out and kick Tony without inflicting some pain on himself, why can't he just stay quiet? Hart turned at Tony's voice, an irritated expression crossing his face before leaving it as expressionless as before. Tony held up his tied hands and gave a winning smile. "It's a little hard to handle a water bottle with tied hands." C'mon Tony, only an idiot would- Tim's thoughts were interrupted as Hart produced his knife and came over. He quickly cut the ropes on both their hands. Tim glimpsed his belt, of course he felt okay taking off their bonds. He had, not only his knife, but one of their SIGs. Not to mention that they were both injured.

Even Tony seemed surprised by this seeming change in their luck, until he too spotted the gun. Tim saw his lips tighten ever so slightly and disappointment flash across his eyes, though his expression showed nothing.

"So, why you hanging out with this psycho chick?" Hart paused in the doorway his back to them. Tim swung his leg and kicked Tony as hard as he could. Tony gave him a cheeky grin, darn it. Hart still hadn't moved. "So what? Money? Blackmail? Lust? Love?" Hart moved slightly at the last word, an almost unconscious tick of the head. "So love?"

"You wouldn't understand."

Tim chuckled softly, and then began to wheeze slightly at the loss of breath and stab of pain. Hart turned.

"Seriously? My last girlfriend used me and then tried to kill me." Tim managed to breath out. Tony looked to him, surprised and slightly concerned. Hart gave him a strange glance.

"I didn't kill those two men. The guards were an accident, and so was your Navy man. I didn't mean to kill them."

"We can get you a deal." Tim half glanced at Tony, amazed at how fast he changed from lighthearted teasing to a serious field agent, negotiating their lives. There was no kidding in his voice, no amusement of any kind. It was just firm and confident. "Help us out of here, turn yourself in, testify against Claire Parkinsom and you might get a reduced sentence. It's this or you're going get life." Hart then gave a soft smile, or perhaps it was just a trick of the shadows cast over his face from the rising sun.

"I can't do that." He stepped over the threshold and closed the door. Tony deflated. He pressed the water bottle to his head, the aching becoming worse over time. Distracted suddenly by another hiss of pain, he looked to the source. Tim had pulled himself up into a sitting position, his face drawn in the agony it had caused him, any color his face had gained back was now gone.

"Still the ribs?" Tony questioned. Tim nodded. Tony slipped off his jacket, and began to fold it. Tim's brow wrinkled. Tony caught the action and smiled slightly. "I told you, I've had broken ribs before. We have to wrap them to keep then stable." Tim swallowed.

"I...I'm sure I'm fine just the way I am." Tim wasn't anticipating the pain this would cause him. He'd had broken ribs before too.

"Don't be such a girl, c'mon!"

The Officer looked to his speedometer and gave small curse. He hoped Gibbs didn't drive this fast normally. He heard a swallow besides him and glanced to the passenger seat.

Davies, holding tightly to the side of his seat and the handle on the ceiling, was watching the road fly by. The Officer smiled slightly.

"You okay, kid?"

"Fine." Davies gave him a queasy looking grin, and turned his attention back to the road. The Officer followed in suit. The car in front, containing the NCIS agents, turned sharply to the right. The Officer, a small smile on his lips, spun the wheel violently to the right to follow them. He could hear Davies knock into the car door and glimpsed his freaked out expression. He could only hope the passenger of the car in front of them was faring better.

Gibbs gripped the steering wheel tightly, Ziva was surprised his fingernail hadn't torn the leather yet. She wasn't surprised, however, when he pressed the accelerator again. She would be driving just as fast, or even faster, had she'd been in the driver's seat. But again, she could only watch. In anticipation, she pulled her gun out of its holster and began to take out and then put back in the magazine, with a snap. Gibbs gave her an exasperated glance mixed with slight amusement.

"It is alright, the safety is on." She gave him a small grin and cocked the gun menacingly.

"Ziva,"

"Yes?"

"Remember, don't just shoot the first person you see." Ziva pouted slightly at Gibbs remark.

"As long as I can interrogate them, I will restrain from shooting anyone unless I must." Ziva clenched her jaw in anger. Gibbs could practically see the cogs spinning in her head, planning out exactly what method she would use that would cause a lot of pain without leaving marks. He snorted.

"You're behind Abby."

"Who is first?"

"Me." Gibbs saw Ziva give a vindictive smile as he stated this. Ziva looked down to the address.

"We are close, we will be there in about ten minutes."

o-o

Tim dropped his head against the wall, drawing in another painful breath.

"Don't be such a wuss, McGoo." Tony gently adjusted the jacket, but frowned slightly as Tim winced again. He sighed. "That's the best I can do, but I think you might have some internal injuries from the broken ribs." Tim gave him a slightly bemused look. "What? When I get hurt I do the research. I know everything you'd ever need to know about the pneumonic plague." He smiled grimly and took a sip from the water bottle, and then tossed the other to Tim, who caught it gently.

"I'm fine."

"Sure you are. Don't be stoic."

"No thanks, I'm not feeling up to drinking anything right now." Now that he mentioned it, Tim did look a bit ill. There was a tinge of green in his pale cheeks. Tony frowned, with broken ribs left untreated in bad conditions, the results would be ugly. The door swung open suddenly and the hulking shape of Hart loomed in the doorway. Both men stiffened.

"I'm giving you a chance."

"What?" Tim and Tony stared dumbfounded at one of their captors, the man who helped kidnap them.

"You have two minutes."

"Wha- Ow!" Tony quickly, without thinking, elbowed Tim in the ribs to cut off another confused question.

"Oh right, sorry." Tony grimaced apologetically at Tim, who was too busy catching his breath to shoot a dirty look.

"One minute and forty seconds. You're not out of sight by then, I shoot you. Run." Hart stared at them, a slight pity in his eyes, though apparently not enough to help them in any way. Tony scrambled to his feet, and leaned heavily on the wall as a wave of dizziness came upon him. With quite a bit of effort, he managed to help Tim to his feet, and sling his arm over his shoulder.

"Sorry, Tim."

"S'fine." Tim gasped out, trying to regain his breath and footing at the same time. "I can walk." Leaning on each other, they stumbled out the doorway, and through the first door they saw, thankfully the back door. Tony felt the ground seem to shift underneath his feet, and his headache grow unbearable.

"Tony!" He heard a voice gasp urgently to him. He blinked, his vision straightening out. Tim's face swam into his view. He looked like death warmed over, sweat pouring from his colorless face, pain and concern in his eyes. Tony realized he had stumbled, and Tim had been lugging him along.

"I'm good." He regained his footing and matched Tim's surprisingly quick pace. Adrenaline kicked in and they both disappeared into the trees. After a few good seconds of panicked sprinting and dodging trees, they both slowed and stopped. Both men collapsed on the ground. Tim clenched his teeth in agony as his need to breath overcame his sense of self-preservation. He felt his heart beat speed up.

"Can't breathe!" He wheezed out.

"Calm down, McGee!" Tony reached over and untied the wrap, "You have broken ribs, that's not going to help your breathing. Calm down or you'll faint."

"Pass out."

"Normally I'd say pass out too, but we are talking about you." Tim shot Tony a dirty look but then grinned weakly, and let his head drop wearily to the ground, his breathing slowed.

The sudden firing of a gun pierced the air.

Tony leaped to his feet, adrenaline kicking in again and clearing his head of the cobwebs it had been collecting. "Holy sh- C'mon, McGee!" Tim rose unsteadily, his face twisted in pain. Tony, glancing behind him, took Tim's arm over his shoulder and both of them stumbled off into the breaking dawn.


	11. Chapter 11

After quite a bit of writer's block (And lack of motivation :P) I'm still not fully completed with this story. There's one chapter left that needs to be written but some recent(ish) reviews have galvanized me into a what-the-hell attitude. I'll just post what I have at the moment. :) Thank you guys so much for reading this story so far, I'm not liking the ending as much as I thought I would, but for first multi-chaptered stories, it's not too bad. There are about six more chapters (Including this one) that I have, and will post every few days or so when I can.

I'm sorry about the long wait, and I hope you enjoy the rest. And, so you know, reviews are love.

* * *

**Chapter Eleven**

Fear flared up inside Gibbs, catching his breath in his throat as a gunshot split the silence of the woods. They had just arrived a few yards from the cabin, the Officer and his detective ambling up behind them. The backup arriving just as they did.

Pulling their weapons as they ran, Gibbs and Ziva, closely followed by the Officer, Davies and their backup, reached the house. The LEOs looked to the Officer, who nodded. They quickly surrounded the cabin, and waited. Gibbs, his face grim, held up three fingers. He put one down, the next and then the last, and on that signal burst into the cabin, shadowed by Ziva. The other policemen moved in quickly, the Officer and Davies followed a few feet behind.

Claire Parkinsom stood poised over a still body, holding a gun, her finger still on the trigger. It was almost a bizarre scene, and Gibbs was reminded of the many comic books Tim had kept at his desk a few years ago, which quickly changed when Tony discovered them, the perfectly drawn scenes clearly illustrated by people not experienced with holding guns. They were exactly like this. Claire seemed quite puzzled by the agents' sudden appearance through her door, but she didn't lower the weapon.

The pool of blood quickly spread and soaked into the carpet from the circular bullet hole in the back of the body's head, the body's torso lay half out of back door. The smell of burnt hair and gunpowder hung in the air. It couldn't be Tony or Tim, not after they'd found one of the killers, not after they had finally gotten a lead after so many hours.

Where the Hell was the justice in that? Snapping back to reality, Gibbs raised his gun a notch higher, now aiming at the dead center of Claire's forehead.

"Drop your weapon." Completely deadpan, Gibbs ordered this in a voice that would cause any enlisted man to stand up straight. Claire's jaw tightened, but she was no fool, the gun sunk and was tossed on the ground. Ziva quickly pulled it out of her reach and shot her a murderous look. Glancing to Gibbs and seeing his slight nod, Ziva whisked foreword and clasped her cuffs onto Claire, snapping them tightly over her wrists. Ziva smiled coldly at Claire, goading her to fight back and warrant a strike that Ziva so desperately wanted to deliver.

Gibbs knelt besides the body, Hart. Daniel Hart lay dead upon the carpet, an expression of surprise still implemented upon his still face, his eyes wide from the surprise of the gun that brushed his hair a split second before the bullet sped from the barrel. Gibbs stood and turned to Claire.

"On what grounds do you have to barge into my house? What crime have I committed that warrants an arrest?" Claire's face was a picture of innocence. So different from the savage anger that had been, briefly, on her face the moment they came in. Gibbs almost smiled; he had danced to this beat many a time and knew the steps like the back of his hand.

"Would you like the short list?" Gibbs raised an eyebrow. Claire stared back. "Well, murder for one,"

"It was self defense." She pointed to the gun lying next to Hart.

"I'm not done." This response was so icy, Claire closed her mouth. "Murder, not just of this man but of a married couple, Mr. and Mrs. Brent-"

"I-"

"-And their nephew Petty Officer Benjamin Stephenson. And the kidnapping and assault of two federal officers." Gibbs forged ahead, cutting her off before she was able to formulate an excuse. She sputtered slightly but then closed her mouth and adopted a hard unreadable expression.

"I'd like a lawyer." Gibbs had to stop himself from snorting unprofessionally. They all asked for a lawyer.

"Ziva, hand her over to our Metro pals, they can read her, her Miranda rights." Ziva started out the door. "Ziva,"

"Yes?" Ziva stopped at the door and looked back to Gibbs.

"Keep her here, we might need her." Gibbs told her, Ziva nodded and headed out the door, leading Claire not very gently to the Officer and Davies.

o-o

Gasping raggedly, the two men jogged unsteadily through the woods. One clutched his ribs tightly; the other staggered and almost fell every other step. It was a minor miracle that neither of them had fallen nor hurt themselves yet.

Tim took in another breath, more stabbing pain and the feeling of suffocation overcame him but since Tony was still running, however haphazardly, so would he. Black spots danced in front of his eyes, clouding his vision and for a moment he lost all sight of the woods and only the depths blackness stood in his vision. Oh no. He couldn't feel his body, nothing, he felt so cold.

Tony flinched slightly as a large thump echoed slightly from behind him followed by a pained yelp. He was running on the high from the adrenaline, and barely thinking at all, his head throbbed in time with his rapid heartbeat that increased at the noise. He glanced back. Tim wasn't there anymore. Damn it!

o-o

Rapidly, Gibbs, Ziva, the Officer, Davies and the rest of the backup searched the cabin. Reaching the last room at the very end of the cabin, slightly isolated from the rest, they cleared the building. Glancing into the room, Gibbs sighed. Nothing. They weren't there.

"Gibbs!" Ziva called out to him from the corner of the room. "Look, someone was here." She pointed out to two water bottles, knocked over, and scrapes in the dirt on the floor. "They were here."

Marching like man on a mission, Gibbs came up to Claire, who stood handcuffed, next to two officers.

"Where are my agents?"

"Who?"

"You know damn well who! You forgot to ditch their badges." Gibbs held up the evidence bags with Tim and Tony's badges and identification. Anger washed over her face.

"I don't know." Claire glared venomously at him.

Frowning, Gibbs turned away. She was telling the truth. Hart's body was facing the woods; she had shot him in the back of the head. His gut speaking persuasively, Gibbs turned to the Officer. "Have your men start searching the edges of the woods."

"For what?"

"Anything unusual."

"You got a hunch?" The Officer peered intently at Gibbs, and smiled slightly when he didn't answer. He picked up his radio and issued the order. Gibbs collected Ziva and joined the backup.

o-o

"McGee!" Tony called back and slowed to a slow trot, then turned back and sprinted back in a blind panic. "McGee!" Someone groaned, he glanced to his left and spotted a motionless Tim, lying on his side. "McGee? You okay?" Tony kneeled down next to Tim, and in a rare display of real affection, laid a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"Stupid." Tim murmured slightly, grimacing at Tony. "Didn't watch where I was going, tripped over something." Tim failed to tell Tony he had almost passed out. Though Tony would have to be blind not to see the cold sweat that lay upon his face. Tony rolled his eyes and gave a small, relieved smile. Though worry still creased his face. He stood and offered Tim a hand.

"We need to keep going." Tony glanced backward. Tim took Tony's hand and with a large pull, was lifted erect. And then crumpled to the ground again. He whimpered.

"Guess I twisted something."

"Twisted my butt, looks broken." Tony grimaced at Tim's ankle, which was now bent awkwardly, and beginning to display a colorful bruise.

"That's exactly what we need." The sarcasm bleeding in to Tim's statement, drowning out the fear that seized him. Breathing was hard enough, and now this? "Just leave me here."

Tony snorted. "McGee, are you serious? You know me better than that. Never leave a Probie behind." Tony whipped around as a distant voice echoed to them, along with the snapping of a branch. Tony paled, and felt the world spin around him. Nausea rising within him, he heaved Tim to his feet and put his arm over his shoulder before he collapsed again. Dragging Tim along, Tony headed away from the noise.

o-o

Gibbs squinted slightly in the shadows of the woods. Tony's jacket. "Ziva!" Ziva appeared silently and looked to the jacket before looking, almost hopefully to Gibbs. Dredging up his tracking skills, Gibbs began to follow the trail of the two men.

The Officer and Davies followed close behind, anticipation on Davies' face. Gibbs turned to Ziva. "Call an ambulance, they might be injured." The uneven footprints of both men didn't encourage Gibbs. Opening her mouth to protest even stopping, she reluctantly stood still and pulled out her cell phone. Gibbs, the Officer and Davies forged on ahead.

o-o

Tony leaned against a tree, and then dropped down onto the ground, dropping Tim. Who instinctively curled into a fetal position, holding his ribs. Pressing his knuckles into his forehead, Tony tried to soothe the pain. His vision began to fail on him; the world was shaking and whirling in front of eyes.

They needed to keep going though. He could hear footstep coming closer and closer. "Tim." Tim uncurled himself, his face deathly pale and his breathing uneven, he looked to Tony. "You're a good man."

"You're going soft on me, Dinozzo." Tim weakly smiled at Tony. Tony stood the best he could, swaying slightly, and turned to face the enemies that were upon them, his muscles tensing up. Ready to fight a losing battle. Tim, using the tree as a crutch, raised himself painfully, to standing position. Ready to face whatever fate was before them.

o-o

Gibbs ran now, not caring about anything else but the two tracks of footprints that lay in front of him. Ziva had caught up to them now and was jogging fluidly besides Gibbs.

Both stopped dead in their tracks, and Gibbs and Ziva met two familiar figures. Tony and Tim stood dumbfounded, staring dazed at Gibbs and Ziva. Tim was clutching a tree in a death grip, and Tony trembled, looking like he barely had enough willpower to hold himself upright. Both were filthy and haggard, and had quite a few bruises each, aside from other injuries.

"You guys certainly took your time, huh?" Tony beamed at them, and Tim smiled wearily. However, the human body can only take so much abuse.

Both men collapsed.


	12. Chapter 12

I got sick, so this chapter is a little overdue. Sorry readers! *Gives hugs* And thank you guys for the reviews! The support you guys provide is fantastic and I love it. Seriously? 75 reviews? You guys are wonderful.

**Peachmikey11 **- I'm sorry, there isn't too much more Tony whump left. A little bit, but not anything _incredibly_ huge.

**Hermione's Shadow - **I was worried about the adoption thing, I'm glad you don't think it's that too far out of left field.

**Shialuvr222 - **Your review made me giggle. I'm glad you're enjoying it.

This chapter is a little short, but I'm not trying to short Chang you guys (My love goes to anyone who gets that reference) :D. It's more exposition than anything else. And to be sure, I don't have any medical experience and I'm not a doctor in any sense of the word, Time Lady or medical. ;) All the info I get is from the internet, so there may be (And probably are) mistakes, so I try not to dwell to much on the medical bits more than necessary. Hope you guys enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter 12**

It all passed by so slowly, and yet so quickly at the same time. There wasn't anyone else in the waiting room, or perhaps there was. Gibbs didn't notice.

He had never felt so detached in his life; there was no emotion, no dread, no pain. Absolutely nothing.

So unlike the torturous pain and rage of losing Shannon and Kelly. Or the slow, poisonous guilt of Kate. Nor the burning anger and grief of his mother. Not even the quiet sorrow of Jenny.

As if he was just an observer of the man, Leroy Jethro Gibbs. The tired looking man sitting in a small, uncomfortable waiting room chair with a coffee cup resting in his hand. The man with the expressionless face, who could have just walked in off the street for no reason what so ever. Not even knowing where he was going. Davies walked gently up to him, took the empty coffee cup and replaced it with a fresh one.

"Here you go, Sir." Damn kid, though Gibbs had never told him about calling him 'sir'. He wondered for a brief second, why he was even there. He didn't know Tony or Tim; he wasn't one of their agents. Davies received no reaction for his kindness. He hesitated for a second, but then walked down the hall and was gone.

At some time, Ziva was there too. Sitting solemnly besides him, not speaking a word. Fingering the pendant around her neck, anguish hidden in her dark eyes, her face blank. She was there almost the whole time he was.

Abby also arrived at one point. Had he called her? He was running on autopilot, he wasn't sure. She clung to his arm, a few wayward tears drifting down her face. She constantly harassed every nurse or doctor that happened to have the misfortune of strolling by, for information though the answer was always, "I don't know." or "Surgery still."

Jimmy and Ducky arrived shortly after Abby. Ducky's face was seemed more lined than before, had he looked that old the last time Gibbs seen him? That world-weary? Jimmy, however, looked the exact opposite. He looked many years younger than his actual age. His face holding a confused, concerned look, he wrung his tie nervously. Gibbs was reminded that both Tim and Jimmy were the same age; they had that sort of timeless face. The face that looked ever young, never aging beyond boyhood.

"Have we heard anything yet?" A beat. "Jethro?" Ducky was talking to him.

"Nothing. Nothing yet." Gibbs returned to the pilots seat, answering wearily. Ducky turned to look behind him, but then took a seat next to Ziva when he found no one to glean information from. Jimmy folded his coat over his arm and sat down next to Ducky. And there they sat, Abby, Gibbs, Ziva, Ducky, Jimmy. Waiting for news, and almost wishing it would never come. None of them moved, not even when Davies brought them all coffee and then waved goodbye. They all held their breaths.

o-o

Finally a doctor walked into the waiting room and stopped. "Are all of you here for Special Agents Dinozzo and McGee?" Shaking the heaviness from his limbs Gibbs got to his feet. Followed closely by Ducky, the rest were nodding off.

"Yeah, so..."

"Agent Dinozzo had a minor concussion, however the impact of his brain against his skull caused by a blow, or perhaps a fall caused an Intracerebral hemorrhage. These can be extremely dangerous. We had to perform surgery, we repaired the broken arteries and damages tissues the best we could to try and reduce the swelling."

"How serious was the swelling? Will it affect any of his cognitive abilities?" Ducky adjusted his glasses, staring pointedly at the doctor. The doctor shifted uncomfortably under Ducky's judging stare.

"Too early to tell, we'll know more after we do an MRI in an hour or so to see how much the swelling has been reduced. From what we saw during surgery, the swelling isn't too severe but only time will tell. Best case scenario, he makes a full recovery, the worst," He hesitated. "Extensive brain damage. If the swelling doesn't go down in the next few hours, we'll try lowering his body's core temperature to reduce it."

"And Agent McGee?" Ducky asked.

"He had three broken ribs and several cracked ones. One of the broken ribs recently punctured his lung and it collapsed in surgery. We put in a chest tube, however he'll be susceptible to infection more so. We found signs of the beginnings of pneumonia, but we're watching very carefully. He also had a broken ankle, but it's a clean break and we were able to put pins in very easily."

"Can we see them?" The doctor looked curiously over to the new voice, Abby had come up and slipped up next to Gibbs. The doctor hesitated.

"Only family can visit while they're in intensive care. Have they been contacted?"

"Tim's family is on vacation and I can't get a hold of them." Abby looked despondent. Ziva looked up.

"Sarah?"

"Her too." Abby smiled softly. "Tim decided they needed a vacation. And Tony and his dad," Abby shifted uncomfortably. "They're not on the best terms at the moment. Plus, he's out of the country." Abby finished, Gibbs turned to the doctor.

"We're their only family available now." He stared intently at the doctor, blue eyes piercing.

"Please." Ziva said softly from behind. Rubbing his face, the doctor decided it wasn't worth a fight.

"Fine, but two at a time." The doctor raised an eyebrow as Abby gave a large smile and half hugged him.

"Thank you so much!" And with that, she rushed down the hallway.

Ziva slipped silently past him, but gave him a grateful look. Jimmy followed close behind. "Thanks." Jimmy gave the doctor a tired smile. Ducky clapped the doctor on the shoulder.

"Thank you, we have quite a bit to discuss." Ducky stared pointedly but went on his way.

Gibbs looked to his team's retreating forms; he wanted to follow then, to make sure. Glancing at his watch, he sighed inwardly. He needed to go back and do an interrogation, one he would enjoy, but still. Giving one last, almost longing look down the hallway he turned to the doctor.

"Anything changes, you call me." After handing the doctor his card, and giving him a challenging stare, Gibbs turned and went out the doors.

And he was gone, as if he had never been there at all.


	13. Chapter 13

-Screw regular intervals, I'm terrible with them anyway. :P I'm glad you liked the other chapter guys, it probably is my favorite of all of them. This chapter swings between interrogation with Gibbs and the hospital with Ziva and Abby, I hope you like it! I had the most trouble with this chapter while writing, so I hope it's effective and doesn't seem too rushed. I know I keep saying this, but it's very true, you guys encourage me so much. *Gives hugs* Thank you.

- And did anyone see last nights episode (Ha, silly question, eh?)? Not terrible, though the ending was pretty bad in my opinion. :P

* * *

**Chapter Thirteen**

"Here, we'll switch in a bit. See you soon, Ziva." Abby gave the nurse a dirty look, as if blaming her for the 'one visitor at a time' restriction placed, gave Ziva a small smile and wave and took off down the hallway. Ziva's mouth twitched upward, she looked to the nurse who had a slightly frazzled expression.

"Thank you." Ziva gave the nurse an apologetic smile.

"Call me if you need anything." The nurse's expression said, strongly otherwise but it softened as she gazed into the room. Sympathy inking into her face, she opened her mouth but then shut it and left. Ziva took a seat next to the bed and the prone figure lying in it.

"Hello, McGee." A beep from the monitor, a wheeze from some machine, a soft click from the clock. "It...it is Ziva, McGee." You idiot, he's unconscious. He doesn't know nor care you're here. Ziva bitterly chastised herself.

Squeezing her hands tightly in her lap, Ziva wished Abby was here, or Ducky. Even Jimmy would be something. But Ducky and Jimmy had gone off to track down and speak with every doctor and every nurse Tim and Tony had and would come in contact with. She was alone here. Except for of course, Tim. She was no good at bedside manner, her skill level in that area was right about at the level of comforting crying women.

With lack of anything else that could seem natural in this situation, she reached hesitantly over and took Tim's limp left hand and cradled it in her own.

"I am so, very sorry, McGee."

o-o

"Claire Parkinsom."

"That's a bit unfair, I don't know your name." Claire looked to the folder in Gibbs' hand. "And I don't have a file either." His features hardening, Gibbs sat down at the table, facing Claire. Who smiled sweetly at him, and then looked to the two-way glass behind his head before returning to him.

"So, what would you like to start with? The kidnapping and assault of my agents, or the four murders you committed in the last five days?" Gibbs tone would have frozen the water in the water bottle sitting on the table, if it had been any icier.

o-o

"We should have found you both quicker. Perhaps, then, both of you would be in better shape."

The beep of a monitor, tick of a clock, soft footsteps from outside the hospital door. But no response from the man lying in the bed. Ziva sighed.

"But, I guess it is like what my mother told me as I child, 'Worry about the things you can change, and live with the things you cannot.' She was a wonderful woman; I think you would have liked her, McGee. She loved to read." Ziva squeezed Tim's hand, but he was clearly still unconscious. Ziva sighed again.

o-o

"Will anything I say change your mind? Should I even try?" Claire gazed at Gibbs, his expression didn't change. "I see. Well, I'll try anyway. I did not murder anyone, my boyfriend attacked me and I shot him. Self defense." Claire knew she was fighting a losing cause though, clubbing the bastard on the head would have been a better choice but she couldn't go back now. "I didn't kidnap your agents, I didn't commit any murder."

"Of course not. My agents just happened to be on your property, their guns and badges in your possession, and your fingerprints at the scenes of the crime. It's all just coincidence. And we can't forget the murders of those other men." Gibbs smiled as her eyes widened slightly. "Guess you didn't know that one, did you?"

"I didn-"

"Those other murders, your 'boyfriend' committed, there were unidentified fingerprints found there. Guess who they belong to."

Claire didn't answer.

"Would you like your lawyer now?"

"Wouldn't do me much good, would it?"

"Nope, you're screwed."

o-o

Abby, once entering Tony's room, had made herself at home. Twenty minutes later, Abby was sitting next to unconscious Tony chatting animatedly about her last bowling game and whatever else popped into her head.

Talking kept the fear at bay. The paralyzing panic and sadness that threatened to overwhelm her every moment that she paused speaking and Tony just lay there with white bandages wrapped around his head. Not smiling and laughing, just lying there. So still, so different than the vibrant personality she knew.

A nurse and the doctor entered the room.

"Ma'am." The doctor nodded to her. "Special Agent Dinozzo needs an MRI. He'll be back in about fifteen minutes though."

"And I'll be here." Abby stuck her chin out, and released Tony's hand. She reached out and ran her finger on his cheek. Wake up, Tony. But he didn't open his eyes. She felt tears brim against the bottom of her eyelids, but they didn't spill out. Tony was wheeled out of the room.

o-o

Gibbs just watched Claire now, didn't speak, just watched.

"No more questions?"

Gibbs raised an eyebrow. "No."

"No? Don't even want to ask me why I did it? How I could do 'such a thing'?" She air-quoted the last few words.

"I don't care." Gibbs looked down at her file and began to read. He looked up again. "But apparently, you do." Red spots appeared on her cheeks.

"Why do you think I did it?"

"I thought I already told you, I don't care."

"Power, I guess."

Gibbs ignored her.

"There was a certain rush, I determined who lived or died. And I had Daniel there to take the fall, poor fool. Then it went all wrong."

"You lost the control you held." Claire hadn't noticed Gibbs now sat straight in his seat, slightly inclined toward her. His eyes looking, seemingly, through her. She didn't notice his voice, as if it were her own illustrating her story. Behind the glass, Vance narrowed his eyes in disbelief and respect. There was a reason Gibbs was one of the Agency's best interrogators.

"Daniel got caught."

"But you broke him out."

"Yes."

"And you killed Petty Officer Stephenson."

"It was an accident." Gibbs wasn't expecting that sentence to come from her mouth, but he didn't allow that to stop him.

"How?" He whispered softly, gingerly.

"The idiot came over, probably to ask me out. He'd been hitting on me since he arrived. He glimpsed Daniel, recognized him, probably from the news or something. Tried to attack him, and Daniel stabbed him. I just finished him off." She paused. "That's where everything stopped being normal. The kid had family close by that he was staying with, people he probably told where he was going. We couldn't risk it though."

"So you killed the Brents."

"Yes. Those agents just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time."

"Why didn't you just kill them then?"

"Because they ruined everything, we could have gotten away. And I always liked a good bit of revenge."

"Why did you kill Daniel Hart?" Gibbs held his temper under wraps.

"He let them go. He chose a fine time to grow a conscious." Claire said bitterly.

o-o

A nurse walked into Tim's room, Ziva looked up from Tim's pale, drawn face.

"Hi, I'm just here to do some checks. It's alright," He motioned for Ziva to sit back down; she had been preparing to leave the room. "I won't be long, you can stay." He gave Ziva a small smile and began to check the machines.

"Will he be alright?" The nurse looked up at Ziva's hesitant question.

"He looks better than he did when he came in. And it looks like his condition is improving." The nurse grinned awkwardly at Ziva, and turned back to Tim. "There's a good chance he'll-" He stopped. "That's...that's not supposed to be-" He stopped again. He looked up as the beeping of the heart monitor began to increase rapidly. Ziva stood and drew closer to Tim noticing his lips had begun to develop a bluish tinge.

"What is-?" Ziva began. The nurse jammed the call button and then he called out into the hallway.

"Collapsed lung! We're going to need a CAT scan!" He turned back to Tim and began to feel his chest. "Quickly! Where's his doctor! Call Doctor-" He hurriedly glanced at the chart. "Cassirer!" He turned to a shocked looking Ziva. "Ma'am, I'm sorry, but please leave. We'll need the room.

A few other nurses rushed in and Ziva was pushed unceremoniously out of the room, after a few seconds Tim's bed was rushed out into the hallway and down a side corridor.

o-o

"The results aren't good, Ms.-"

"Scuito."

"Ms. Scuito. The swelling isn't as severe as it could have been, considering the trauma, but...a few key centers of his brain are swelling and are possibly damaged. We won't know the consequences until he wakes up. If he wakes up. I'm sorry, the chances are about 70% for some sort of brain damage."

"Doctor Cassirer, please, we have a collapsed lung a few rooms down. It doesn't look good." A nurse had popped her head in the door, her face was grim.

"Of course." Touching Abby's shoulder gently, Doctor Cassirer swiftly left the room. Breathing heavily, trying to hold back the tears that blurred her vision, Abby stumbled blindly into the hallway toward Tim's room. Ziva was there. Ziva would...do something...something. It couldn't be like this. Her vision cleared momentarily, and saw Ziva being pushed from Tim's room looking helpless.

"No." Abby whispered under her breath. A bed with a still figure was rolled out of the room and run out of site, with several panicked nurses and Doctor Cassirer pushing it.

Abby ran to catch up but was too late, she came up to Ziva, who turned around to face her.

Tears now cascaded down Abby's cheeks, she faced Ziva, who looked just as devastated and they embraced in a hug. Though, no one could tell who clung the most desperately to the other, Abby's shoulders shaking with the sobs, Ziva's face screwed up in the effort to hold back her's.

Why them?

o-o

"We're done." Gibbs said finally. Scooping up the file Gibbs headed out of interrogation, and into observation. Vance nodded to him.

"Nice job." Gibbs allowed himself a slight smile, at Vance's comment.

"Decided to venture from seclusion, Leon?"

"I get cabin fever from time to time."

Gibbs opened his mouth to respond when his phone rang. He answered, and froze.

"I'll be right there."

"Something wrong?" Vance tilted his head slightly to the side, but Gibbs didn't answer. Dropping the files to the floor, Gibbs sprinted out the door, hoping to God, he'd make it in time.


	14. Chapter 14

I'm working guys, just to let you know I have a good reason for not putting up anything in so long, I hope you're not getting frustrated with my lack of updates, it's completely understandable. Though I've just had the busiest week(s) (Months, years...) of my life, but I think things may settle soon. Hopefully. This story has been fighting me the whole time, and my muse has been absent (Damn you, muse! *Shakes fist at heavens*) but you guys have been absolutely fantastic. I'm not sure about the ending I'm chugging toward but hey, it's my first multi-chapter. Live and learn, right? Now a few notes:

-I would never spring a surprise Major Character Death on my readers, I know that's not some people's thing, so I'd never do that. *Hugs you guys* Don't worry, Tony and Tim will make it out of this.

-I don't respond to reviews, I've just never had the time, which is my bad. As a writer, I should make some effort to thank you guys for reading this...mess. :P I'll try my best to respond to reviews, it might just take some time.

-Mostly Jimmy POV in this chapter, and a bit of Jimmy/Ziva friendship (Or romance if you'd like to see it that way) is here too.

Alright, I hope you guys enjoy. :)

~Bagel

* * *

**Chapter Fourteen**

"Doctor," Jimmy coughed uncomfortably. Ducky and the nurse looked up, the latter looking relieved. "We should probably head back to check on Tony and McGee. We've been gone-" He checked the wall clock and then his own watch. "-Over an hour." Wisely keeping to himself that he didn't think the nurse needed another speech on the intimate details of a standard medical procedure she probably already knew, mixed in with a long personal story.

"Very true, Mr. Palmer. I'm sorry, my dear, we must part for now but I look foreword to continuing our conversation another time." Ducky gave her a small smile and began to walk down the hallway. The nurse sighed. Jimmy flashed her an apologetic glance and followed in Ducky's footsteps.

Surrounded by the harsh smell of disinfectant and medicine, Jimmy crossed his arms a little tighter around himself as if to ward off some nonexistent chill. The wish of wanting to be anywhere but here grew slightly stronger.

Hospitals unnerved him, he felt so completely out of his element. In autopsy everything was definite, Death seemed almost like an old friend (As morbid as that sounds). It resided there and was as part as the place as the drawers or even himself. Here, Death was kept away as long as possible. It was fought against by every fiber of the Doctors' being, only giving in when all was lost. Which was a good thing, of course, but still. It was all so different and yet so similar at the same. Jimmy shivered. It made the impact of Death's calling so much more heartbreaking.

Jimmy picked up speed to catch up with the surprisingly quick pace Ducky was setting, striding down the hall with such grim determination and purpose that anyone would make the mistake of thinking he worked there. He cast an air of belonging. Jimmy caught up and matched his pace.

A faint shout suddenly rang out far down the hall.

"Where's his doctor! Call Doctor- Cassirer!" The voice of an unknown nurse called urgently.

"Doctor Cassirer," Ducky said aloud repeating the shouted name to himself as if trying to recall where he heard it before. In the recesses of Jimmy's mind something clicked on the name, he searched quickly through his memories. A nametag, a nametag he read briefly as he passed by. Oh no. Ducky reached the same realization just as Jimmy did.

"McGee and Tony's doctor." Jimmy breathed out, unnecessarily, seeing Ducky had grasped that conclusion also. Both took off down the hall, dodging doctors, nurses, patients, in a sort of blind flight. Jimmy quickly pulled ahead, attempting to put on another burst of speed as he caught sight of a hospital bed being wheeled out of a room and around the far corner. Out of Tim's room. A Doctor and several nurses flitted frantically around the bed.

By the time Jimmy arrived outside the room, they were gone. Breathing heavily, he turned on the spot and caught sight of Ziva and Abby, holding each other and shaking like the world was crashing down around them. Jimmy calmed and stood quietly in place, clasping his hands tightly in front of him, his stance still rigid, almost coiled from the sudden rush of adrenaline and fear. He felt like he was invading on something private and sensitive, he bit his lip, caught between a fear of interrupting the two emotional women and the questions that attempted to tumble down his tongue and through his lips. He shifted uncomfortably, unsure, when Ducky arrived, having come to the sense of not running in a hospital and settled for a slower jog. And having an obvious amount more tact than himself, Ducky approached the women.

"Abigail, Ziva," Ducky said in a gentle tone, holding out his arms invitingly. Abby broke the embrace with Ziva and fell into Ducky's arms, sobbing almost hysterically. "My dear, what's the matter? Where is Timothy?" He soothingly rubbed circles on her back, though instead of answering she began to cry even harder. Jimmy shifted in his spot, feeling even more out of place than before, crying women were never in his element.

"Are you okay, Ziva?" He asked quietly. Ziva stood awkwardly in the same place she had before, her arms hanging limply by her sides now that Abby had vacated them. "Ziva," Jimmy took a step closer to her.

"I am fine, Jimmy." Her answer was so small and placid that Jimmy almost didn't hear it. He took a deep breath, somewhat grateful she wasn't weeping. Slowly, hesitantly he reached over and took her hand in his and squeezed it lightly. Offhandedly, he wondered if the action would be successful, or leave him short a hand.

"It's alright if you're...if you're upset or scared, Ziva." Jimmy stumbled slightly over the words, praying he wouldn't make a mistake or an ill timed, inappropriate joke. He waited for a response but received nothing. He bit back a sigh, thinking he had said something wrong when she squeezed his hand back.

Stepping almost uncomfortably close, she looked deeply into his eyes, as if to try and see if there was any amusement or falsehood. She was silent until finally, she spoke.

"I might be a bit...nervous for McGee, and for Tony." Ziva's voice was low, clearly intended for only him to hear. Her eyes were shining brightly; either from unshed tears or an unspoken threat of death by stapler if he told anyone of this. After a few moments of silence between the two, Jimmy put gentle pressure on her hand and gave her a, hopefully, reassuring smile. She returned a small, weary one.

Both looked up to Ducky, who was listening to finally coherent Abby update him on Tony's status. His face was unreadable for a second, and then so sad and ancient. Jimmy loosened his posture slightly and used his free hand to rub his eyes. Adrenaline gone, he felt utterly exhausted. Ziva stepped toward Ducky, gently letting go of Jimmy's hand, and began to explain the best she could about Tim. Jimmy stepped back into Tim's vacant room and took the seat Ziva had left, seemingly, ages ago. Slumping down into the chair that was too small for him, he ran a hand through his hair and then placed his head in his cupped hands.

How long ago was it, that Agent Gibbs came down to Autopsy asking about the Petty Officer? How long ago? It felt like a lifetime, no two lifetimes. He hadn't even stayed in the room when Agent Gibbs had come in, but he wondered now what he had missed? What they had all missed. Two lives hung upon a thread, waiting for the Fates to either snip with their golden scissors or let them be.

And there Jimmy sat. Gritting his teeth, he wished fervently that he was anywhere but here, where everything was moving too quickly and so slowly at the same time. With a sudden decision, Jimmy wished to be back in Autopsy, back in his haunts, where lives never stood upon the tip of a knife and everything was normal. Not here. Anywhere but here.

Here, that made Abby weep, that frightened Ziva, that aged Doctor Mallard, that made him feel so tired. Anywhere but this place.

o-o

Running like his life depended on it, Gibbs rushed haphazardly up to the front desk, security hovering behind a few feet behind him just in case he turned out to be some sort of basket case. Ducky smiled slightly, wearily as he grilled the nurse sitting at the station.

Deciding the young harried-looking women didn't need any more stress tonight, he called out. "Jethro!" Gibbs looked up. Ducky came to his side, and looked to the distressed nurse. "I'll take him from here, thank you." He gave her an apologetic glance and she looked relieved. The two security men still looked slightly suspicious but walked away. "You make quite an impression don't you, Jethro."

"Duck," Gibbs gave him a small, there-are-things-to-get-done, glance before continuing. "The Doctor called me, he said something was wrong but didn't say anything specific. What's wrong?"

"It seems that Timothy's lung collapsed a second time, he was rushed into surgery. And Anthony, well, Doctor Cassirer told Abigail that several key centers of Anthony's brain are still swelled and perhaps damaged. He may never wake up, and if he does the chances of any kind of brain damage are...high."

"How high?" Gibbs felt his heart skip a beat as Ducky pressed his lips tightly together into a thin line, and didn't answer. Gibbs silently surveyed the scene, Abby, who, in the absence of Ducky, had latched once more onto Ziva. Ziva held her just as tightly, though with a much greater deal of awkwardness. Gibbs looked into Tim's empty room. "Duck." With a subtle nod, Gibbs directed Ducky to the slumped form of Jimmy. Gathering a still watery-eyed Abby under his arm, Gibbs silently comforted her as Ducky spoke softly to Jimmy, a soothing hand placed on his shoulder.

After a few moments, Ducky and Jimmy rejoined them, looking slightly worse for wear. Taking a second look at the group, Gibbs realized they all did. Every person there in varying states of exhaustion and emotional distress. Gibbs sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

"Head home, all of you." Abby opened her mouth to protest but Gibbs cut her off. "It's late. Go." The last word spoken softly but forcefully. Abby looked incredibly unhappy but knew she wouldn't get anywhere by arguing.

"I am fine, Gibbs. Someone should stay to-" Ziva began with a steely glint in her eyes, but was interrupted by Gibbs.

"Someone is staying. Now go home. That's an order, David." Ziva looked like she was going to resist some more but dropped her gaze in defeat. "Go." He motioned for them to leave, giving them a hardened don't-mess-with-me look. Ducky took a rebellious, yet exhausted looking Abby under his arm and began to almost forcefully guide her toward the exit. Ziva gave Gibbs a critical look, but slowly turned and began to follow in suit. Jimmy looked almost apologetic, but said nothing. Catching up with Ziva, he spoke softly to her and just as they exited, Gibbs saw him gingerly take her hand. Gibbs sighed heavily, ran a hand through his hair again, and looked down the hall. Stopping once to ask a nurse directions, Gibbs silently ghosted down the halls and into Tony's room, where he dragged a chair over by his bedside and sat down heavily.

"I'd head-slap you Tony, but causing more damage to a head injury seems like a bad idea. But you better listen, you're a fighter. Both of you are. I'm not accepting anything else, and if you give me anything else I'll find the both of you, and kick your asses."

"If anything can help them, that may be it." Gibbs gave a small half smile but didn't turn around at the voice.

"Thought you left, Duck." Gibbs turned slightly to see his old friend dragging another chair to his side, with a tired smile, Ducky sat down.

"And leave you here to dwell on past mistakes and 'What ifs'? Never! I would think you knew me better by now." Ducky said in false hurt tone, the smile on his face grew broader.

"Thanks." The statement so soft, that it was almost lost in the beeping of the machines and the general murmur of those who passed by the room. Ducky, with a knowing smile on his face, stayed silent.


	15. Chapter 15

Hello all! It's been a very long time, and I'm so sorry for that. I've been so busy...I hate this phrase but, emotional roller coaster. And that's all I will say on that subject. :P

All of you deserve medals for sticking with this story, and upon receiving an incredibly correct review, I've finished this story. I'm not entirely happy with where it's gone, and there isn't much in the way of hurt and/or comfort after this, but it's an end, and I realized I needed to finish this thing! :)

Again, I'm so sorry about the wait, but I hope the end meets all of your satisfaction. Thank you so much. There will be one more chapter after this one. After some editing and revision, it'll come up sometime soon.

Thank you.

* * *

**Chapter Fifteen**

"He's stable for now." Doctor Cassier gently pinched the bridge of his nose, looking extremely exhausted. He and Gibbs stood in Tim's room, fresh from surgery several hours later. "He's a fighter. After his lung collapsed a second time…" He trailed off and looked at Gibbs, who said nothing. He sighed and continued. "The chances of it collapsing again have significantly increased, the lung has already taken an incredible beating. But I don't think it'll happen again. We repaired the lung the best we could, but there'll be some scarring from the trauma."

"He'll match, Dinozzo." Gibbs murmured under his breath, slightly amused. Doctor Cassier's lips twitched a bit at his tone, he continued.

"He's under some heavy sedatives right now, so he probably won't wake up until tomorrow morning when they eventually filter out of his system. He's going to be on a ventilator for now, until he wakes up. We're not taking any chances on putting stress on the lung. He wouldn't survive another collapse." The last part was said with a solemn note, his face serious. He glanced at Tim, who predictably didn't wake up, and walked toward the door. He stopped and leaned against the doorframe, after a moment he turned again. "We have some extra beds in the on-call room, not many people are working tonight and it's about two in the morning. If you need it, it's there, Special Agent Gibbs."

"I'm fine. But, thanks." Gibbs said shortly, though the graciousness was brief it was there. Doctor Cassier nodded, gave another glance at Tim, full of pity and sadness, and departed. "Poor kid." He whispered. Gibbs turned and looked at Tim, snugly tucked underneath the crisp, white sheets, that drained whatever color he had left from his face. He did look like such a kid. Gibbs frowned and took an armchair besides the window. They didn't deserve this. He glanced up again as footsteps paused in front of the room. The Officer stood in the doorway, concern barely visible through the shadows cast on his face.

"Gibbs."

"Need something?" Gibbs asked starkly. The Officer hesitated and then walked into the room and up to Gibbs.

"Just checking on you and your agents before I head home." There was a thoughtful pause. "I'd heard about you, Gibbs, but I never thought you'd be as much of a hard ass as you are." The Officer grinned.

"I do what I have to." Gibbs said in an even tone, but the edge of a smile snuck onto his lips.

"I hope we get to work together again." The Officer offered a hand to Gibbs, who stood and took it in a firm handshake.

"I do too." The Officer smiled at this. The handshake was broken and he began to walk away. "I never got your name." The Officer stopped at Gibbs' voice and turned.

"Gonzalez." Officer Gonzalez said softly, with a grin, and left for good. Gibbs slumped back into his seat, and sighed again. He glanced out the window into the night.

"Jethro, coffee?" A cup was placed into his lax grip. Ducky took the seat next to him and followed his gaze. "Ah, Luna. The moon. Long ago those who observed the stars and stayed out under the moon were often considered to be insane by their peers. Loony, they'd call them. As if the moon influenced their state of mind. Unhinged the sanity we hold so dear." He chuckled softly. "Though it seems we are all a little insane. Though insanity is not always a terrible thing. In fact, many of the most famous discoveries of all time were uncovered by the supposed mad. In my youth, I encountered a particularly-"

"You're killing me here, Duck." Gibbs groaned and straightened in his chair. "How's Tony?"

"The latest CAT scan showed a reduction of the swelling around his frontal and parietal lobes." Ducky gave a small smile when Gibbs raised an eyebrow. "That is what the medical staff are attempting to achieve, Jethro. Anthony's chances of damage to vital parts of his brain, have been reduced greatly." Gibbs kept his piercing gaze on Ducky, seemingly making an attempt to bore into his soul. Ducky stared back with the same amount of intensity, if not more. "You have done all you can, Jethro. Even you need rest occasionally." He said gently. Silence. "I'm here, Jethro. I can easily arouse you if something takes a turn for the worst."

Gibbs slipped back into his slumped position in the chair and said nothing. Ducky held back a sigh and then smiled slightly.

"Have I ever told you of my internship, to a rather eccentric man?"

Gibbs rubbed his face wearily and squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. "Geez, Ducky. There's a time and a place."

"He was a good man. A strong moral compass he held, one that he imposed upon me when I was under his employment for one year, at the tender age of nineteen. Doctor Levon. Doctor Evan Levon. A good man, but a strange one. Now, I remember on my second day there, he decided to enlighten me to the ways of transcendentalism. Of course, he was a rather blunt man. I ended up alone, blindfolded in the middle of a deep forest..." Ducky reminisced, a far away look on his face.

Gibbs groaned as Ducky seemingly rambled on. Things were becoming blurry, and his eyelids were becoming harder to keep apart. He looked to his hand, which had held a steaming cup of coffee moments ago, and would have blinked in astonishment if be had the energy to spare. Where had his coffee gone? He glanced at Ducky, the world dimming around him, and caught the sly glint in his eye as he talked. Smooth devil! Slowly his eyes drifted shut.

And the world faded away into a comforting, blank canvas.

"Goodnight, Jethro."

Damn you Duck.

o-o

Tony swam swiftly upward through the darkness, propelled by sheer force of will, without corporeal form. Just a shapeless entity trapped within his own body. He struggled toward the surface, fighting for the consciousness that had eluded him before. He winced inwardly at the stiff feeling and fuzziness that seized his form but he struggled onward.

A little more. Just a little farther.

He fought fiercely through the thick fog and broke the surface-

"Good morning, Tony."

Tony opened his eyes wide at the voice and then winced at the stark lights. He shut his eyes tightly. _Hospital?_ "Feel…like hell." He croaked out.

"You look it." A grin flowed through the voice.

"McGee?" Tony cracked open an eye and turned his head ever so slightly to his right. Tim smiled brightly at him from the adjacent bed and frantically pressing the red nurse call button. He looked incredibly relieved though rather sickly, tired and pale at the same time. "You shouldn't talk, man." He grinned weakly and wished desperately for a glass of water. Unfortunately, his limbs had decided to gain a couple thousand pounds while he was out.

"Hey, someone called?" Someone asked from the doorway. Tony glanced toward the door and his eyebrows quirked upward. A pretty brunette nurse leaned against the doorframe, a quizzical look on her face as she looked toward Tim, who just smiled. He then inclined his head in the direction of Tony's bed. Tony attempted to straighten into a sitting position and failed miserably.

"I believe I called." Tony said, charm inking out profusely and an easy, if weary, toothy grin on his face. Her expression brightened visibly with happy surprise and she gave a small smile.

"Agent Dinozzo, you're up!" She pressed a few buttons on her pager and came over to his bedside.

"Oh, you know my name, but I don't know yours." Tony's eyes shone, and his smile grew ever so slightly as she drew closer to him. There was the softest sound of disgust from the adjacent bed. Tony ignored it. The nurse smiled.

"Rebecca."

"Rebecca." He repeated, allowing the name to roll around with relish on his tongue. She blushed slightly. "Very nice to meet you." He said, voice deep, injecting every bit of charm and sexiness he could muster into the tone, as if his life depended on it. Rebecca raised an eyebrow skeptically, but her blush deepened ever so slightly. There was a snort from the other bed, and Tony could almost hear the eye roll coming from Tim. His grin widened.

"You took your sweet time." She commented mildly and glanced at the door. Tony glanced at her, a bit baffled.

"Say what-"

"Doctor Cassier, have you had the pleasure of meeting Special Agent Dinozzo?" Rebecca asked the man who had poked his head in the doorway.

"Very Special Agent Dinozzo." Tony interjected.

Rebecca leaned down slightly and said softly to him, "I'll be the judge of that." His eyebrows flew up and, if possible, his grin grew wider. A small half shy, half wicked smile adorned her features.

"Agent Dinozzo!" Doctor Cassier greeted and strode quickly across the room. "Glad you're finally awake, we were beginning to worry."

"'We'?" Tony pressed a button and the bed inclined a few inches, he turned to look at the other bed. "Aw, McGee. Were you worried about me?" He asked innocently. Tim made a face at him and turned back to the book he was reading, though the edges of his lips turned ever so slightly upward. "How 'bout you Rebecca?" She gave him an amused glance and went back to reading her chart. Tony turned back to the Doctor. "How long was I out, Doc?"

"About seven days."

"Seven…seven days?" Tony sputtered.

"Yes." The Doctor murmured. He flowed with the smoothness and ease of the experienced around the machines surrounding Tony, checking things and making minor adjustments, all the while asking Tony basic questions. He stood back after a moment. "There isn't any apparent memory or cognitive functions damage. Can you feel all your limbs? Upper and lower body?"

"Yeah,"

Doctor Cassier smiled. "That's a good sign, Agent Dinozzo. Please wiggle the fingers on your left hand for me. Good. Right? Okay, toes on your left foot? Now right foot. Wonderful!" He finished with relish and a quirky, if hesitant, smile. "You've recovered surprisingly well, there isn't any visible damage from the concussion or swelling at the moment. But we're going to need to do a CAT scan to check things out."

"I'm used to the head trauma. This concussion," He clumsily made a weak sweeping motion with a hand and an unimpressed sound. "Nothing. Nada." Doctor Cassier gave him an amused look.

"I see the Morphine is doing its job."

"Like a charm." Tony said with a wide grin. "I feel like I could take on the entire world and three Tyrannosaurus Rex's in an overplayed, cinematic wreck of an unnecessary remake of a once great movie. Jack Black." He snorted in disgust and then paused. "That Morphine is doing a great job." He commented fuzzily and glanced over at the button he had been pressing to try and move the bed up again. He blinked and realized that he had missed it the second time and grabbed the Morphine controller instead.

"Get some rest Agent Dinozzo, no matter how you feel right now, you're still healing." He then looked over to Tim, who glanced up in surprise at the sudden. "You too, Agent McGee. It's the middle of the night." Tim closed the book unwillingly and placed it gently on the bed besides him. He sighed. Doctor Cassier half-smiled and left the room, switching off the light as he exited. There was a gentle scraping noise as the book was picked up again.

Tony let his head flop back onto the pillow and closed his eyes. "McGee,"

"Yeah?"

Tony heard the faint rustle of paper as Tim gingerly turned a page in his book. "You were worried, weren't you."

A sigh. "Go to sleep, Tony."

"You want me to get better, don't you. C'mon, admit it. You like me." Tony grinned gently as Tim sighed again. He could practically see the annoyed look on his face as the sound of a book being set down was heard again, along with the gentle sounds of the bed shifting slightly.

"I'm not going to do this right now Tony, I'm putting up with you because you're doped up on Morphine-"

"And loving it."

"-And just woke up out of a week long coma." A pause. There was the soft sound of a head being placed on a pillow. And gentler than before, Tim said, "Go to sleep, Tony."

"Yeah, sure, but not because you told me too." Tony felt the Morphine slowly pull him under into the comforting blackness, cool and soft. Tim listened in the darkness of the room and waited silently until he heard Tony's breaths become even and deep as he became lost in the sleep of the innocent. Or as innocent as Tony could be. Tim folded his hands underneath his head and stared up at the ceiling, ignoring the dull pain every time he drew a deep breath.

"I was worried, Tony. I was worried, more than you'd think, I guess." He sighed and shut his eyes lightly. "Sometimes I wonder what it'd be like if I didn't…care, maybe? If you didn't mean a thing to me. Less stressful, I think." He chuckled softly, though was incredibly wary of his injured lung. Though he still winced and gritted his teeth as a jagged knife of pain twisted ever so slightly in his chest. He lightly pressed the Morphine control one time. "Yeah, I was worried, Tony." He took a shallow breath and let it out slowly. "If I develop an ulcer, it's all your fault." He grasped at the sleep that eluded him for days and finally found it. A small smile flitted across his face as he fell backward into a deep sleep. "Goodnight, Tony."


	16. Chapter 16

Welcome, one and all, to the final chapter of Heed Not These Distinctions! I hope you've enjoyed this story of mine, and thank you so much for all the support that's been given (108 reviews! That's absolutely amazing!) But now it all ends. It's been well over a year since I published this story (Oops), but now it's finally coming to a stop. Thank you, readers!

And also, for all you lovely hurt!Tony fans, I damaged Tony a tiny bit. Just for you. :) Since I hurt Tim so much more, the scales should be leveled (Or attempt to be leveled. I hurt because I love. And I just _adore_ Tim. *Grins*)

* * *

**Chapter Sixteen**

Ziva's eyes flickered upward again for the umpteenth time and then back down to the file that rested supine on her desk, its belly facing up in submission to her annoyed attacks with a pen. She sighed, and then turned a page over.

"I wasn't done reading that one, Ziva." The voice reminded from next to her, insistent and teasing, drawing her name out.

Ziva closed the folder with one swift motion, and squeezed her pen forcefully, in an instant adjusting her grip for optimum speed once flung. However, through a monumental show of restraint, the pen remained in her hand and not imbedded into the grinning face of the person that lounged on the edge of her desk.

"Were you not, Tony?" She asked, eyes flashing in annoyance. "For I do not care if you were done reading! You are not even supposed to be back yet."

"I'm a quick healer." Tony countered with a large grin.

"Go pester McGee, I am working." Dismissively, she flicked a hand toward Tim's desk. He looked up.

"And I'm not?" Tim replied, eyebrows momentarily inclined, and went back to typing something.

Tony raised an eyebrow, and relaxed more onto Ziva's desk, knowing it would annoy her even further. "McGee? I spent three weeks in the hospital with McStick-in-the-mud over there. One of them I was out cold. The rest I was probably bored out of my mind."

There was an almost imperceptible pause that any normal passerby would have missed completely. The taps of Tim's fingers on the keyboard faded into nothing for the briefest of seconds but then picked up with vigor. His eyes though, had drifted over and settled on Tony.

"You still cannot remember?" Ziva asked gently.

"I remember most of it. It's coming back. Little by little." Tony said immediately, his words almost trampling Ziva's. A shadow of frustration passed over Tony's face, that clearly said, 'Not fast enough though'. Ziva's eyes locked onto Tim's for the briefest of moments until Tim broke the gaze.

"Doctor Cassirer said it would take time, Tony, and that your rate of healing is actually quite remarkable." Tim spoke up. "Temporary short term memory loss is quite common with damage to the frontal lobe of the brain." He then repressed a grin. "You'd know that if you hadn't been playing Tetris on your phone underneath the sheets." Tony only seemed to hear the last part. He inclined his head toward Ziva, but seemed to begin to address no one in particular.

"I really have to thank Abby for getting it for me. Another lecture-slash-information session from Ducky, more crappy TV, or just McBoring there for the only entertainment would have killed me." He grinned fondly. Once again, Tim's and Ziva's eyes crossed paths and then parted ways again. Neither drew attention to the sudden recall, but both grinned to their respective computer and folder. Tim then glanced over, smile shining unexpectedly brightly.

"Did you tell Abby you were here early?" He asked. Tony looked a bit guilty. Ziva clucked and shook her head, though she kept it angled downward.

"She will not be happy, Tony. I will not run damage control for you."

"I was going to attempt to surprise her later. You know, try and head off the crazy before it has time to explode and strangle me in a rib-crushing hug." Tim gave Tony a skeptical glance, to which Tony responded with a childish face. Tim then looked affronted, and, surprisingly, stuck out his tongue at Tony. Tony countered with gusto.

Ziva rolled her eyes. "I work with children."

Tony stopped in the middle of crafting a grotesque face and said seriously, "Damn straight." He then nodded firmly. Tim turned back to his computer, attempting to achieve an aloof attitude, though a pleased grin inked its way through.

Ziva shook her head and then circled something in the folder. After a minute, she piped up, eyes glinting. "You two would be pleased to know that, that _woman_" The word was spit out in such distaste and loathing that both Tim and Tony looked a slight bit taken aback. "Who kidnapped you, has just gotten several lifetimes to review what she has done." Her expression then darkened considerably. "If only Gibbs had let Abby and me into interrogation before she was taken away."

Tony chuckled, stood from Ziva's desk, and then transferred over to sitting upon the counter right behind Tim, knocking several of his papers askew. Tim fixed them, spared an annoyed glare to Tony, and then looked back to Ziva with a small smile.

"I'm pretty sure the director would frown upon one of his agents murdering a criminal in interrogation, Ziva." Tim said in an even tone, fingers delicately shuffling pens and pencils in the cup that stood on his desk. "And who would want clean up that mess?"

"Bah!" Ziva replied, dismissive of this claim, and with a flick of her wrist that clearly indicated that she wouldn't care, went back to the folder with a sly grin on her lips. "I find blood washes out quite nicely with enough bleach."

Tim and Tony exchanged a look. Tony widened his eyes almost comically. "Is that from personal experience, Ms. David? Would you like to share with the rest of the class?" At the last part he gestured to himself, Gibbs' empty desk, and then Tim, who looked intrigued. She raised an eyebrow and didn't look up, though there was a sort of content look on her face.

After about ten minutes, Ziva raised her head and surveyed them. Tim and Tony were just talking now, voices low, and tense uneasiness that she had observed in the hospital fading away. Dropping off the two men like coats being shed as winter changes to spring. She wondered vaguely if they were talking about what they had been through, though, she reminded herself, they _were_ men. They were probably avoiding subjects like that, which would definitely lead to talks about feelings and their odd friendship. Probably baseball, or video games. And it would certainly soon escalate into arguing. Teasing words and McNicknames would fly through the air between the two, with well-hidden smiles and glee at the return to normalcy shrouded behind them.

And Ziva wouldn't have it any other way.

"Gear up! Got a dead petty officer in Rock Creek Park."

The command reached them before Gibbs did, marching gruffly ahead of him like a messenger right before an army sweeps over the hill and conquers everything in sight.

Tim and Tony stopped speaking, and both stood at the exact same time, identical expressions of hope shining on both faces. A few papers fluttered to rest upon the ground. A blue pen, cap still lying in the crease in the cold case folder he had been examining, was held forgotten between two fingers in Tim's left hand. Without realizing it, he nervously flipped the pen around between his fingers. Ziva bit back a laugh at all of this. Gibbs retrieved his weapon, paused, and then gave the two a look.

"McGee, you got back today, _and_ you're on desk duty."

Tim sat heavily back into his seat, and a grimace flashed across his face. His hand, pen and all, unconsciously began to drift up to his chest until he noticed its journey and tried to subtly pass if off, to the man who saw everything, by rubbing his neck. He looked a bit sheepish as he saw that Gibbs remained unconvinced. Tony snickered at the blue smear of ink created on Tim's neck by the uncapped pen. Gibbs half rolled his eyes.

"Go, McGee. Rest." He pointed to the elevator. A look of both disappointment and relief passed across Tim's face. He began to gather his things. Tony still stood, though now, with his original look of hope he had paired a winning smile. Gibbs raised an eyebrow. "Dinozzo, you're not even supposed to be back here for another week. If you're Okayed."

"Can't hurt to try though, eh, Boss?" Tony's smile, if possible, grew even brighter, though he seemed much older. Gibbs surveyed both men. Though they had only been there around four hours, less for Tony, both looked completely exhausted, and in Tim's case, more than a little in pain, though each had been trying to hide it.

"Come back next week, McGee. Take Dinozzo with you. "

Tim looked for a moment as if he was going to argue, but seemed to deem that course of action a bad idea. Instead, he said, "Alright. See you, Boss, Ziva." Tim stood slowly, hesitated and then began to walk to the elevator. He turned and stopped at the entrance of the bullpen, and then awkwardly waited for Tony. Tony nodded to Gibbs. "Just can't get rid of me, can you, Gibbs?"

"Nope." Was the reply. Tony's eyes glinted.

"See ya, Ziva."

"Goodbye, Tony, McGee."

Tony joined Tim, and together they walked to the elevator. What they were talking about, as they left together, neither Ziva nor Gibbs ever found out.

Both men boarded the elevator, and together, with small smiles on their faces, calling each other stupid names and insulting one another, they exited the building.

The doors closed.

o-o

_"One man may hit the mark, another blunder; but heed not these distinctions. Only from the alliance of the one, working with and through the other, are great things born."_  
_-Antoine de Saint-Exupery_


End file.
